


The Intellectuals

by MyrJuhl



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Community Service, Crimes & Criminals, Crossover movie verse/real life, Deviates From Canon, Domestic, Drama, Dubious Trials, F/M, Flashbacks, Futuristic, HET later on, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Introspection, Jealousy, Language, Loss, Love, M/M, Manipulation, Out of Character, Panic, Possessive Behaviour, Protectiveness, Secrets, Self-Esteem, Smut, Tension, Trauma, Twincest, discomfort, dub-con, food allergies, light kink, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-06-26 21:18:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15671469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrJuhl/pseuds/MyrJuhl
Summary: Community Service used to be carried out by people charged with minor offences. Now all kinds of criminal sentences can be punished with Community Service, but it now has a more severe significance.  Due to refined and reliable protection systems within society and people's own homes, it is safe to lease the service of the accused to private citizens. And the service they're sentenced to provide varies according to the crime they've committed. The catch however being, that once a sentence is served, the accused is allowed to return to society with a clean slate.American born twins Aaron and Roger Tveit live in theatre happy London. They are used to acquire domestic help that way. One day they lease the service of a wrongly accused man, which leads to a drastic turn of events in their own lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** These events never happened. This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. I, the author, make no claim through this work as to the fictitious characters/ actual lives/ preferences/ activities of the people mentioned herein. 
> 
> * The trials described in this story are less than brilliant. They’re quite dubious due to the fact that this is all fiction and deviates from canon like whoa. *

~•§•~

 

If you took the train out of London once in a while and got off at Tolling Bridge Station, then perhaps your stroll during the historic town would take you to Juniper’s Eye. You’d find yourself mesmerised by the astounding amount of old Tudor houses residing there. Old majestic architecture well cared for. Each with their own little pebbled paths leading from the double garage to the house. Gardens front and back of the properties created a beautiful breathing space to relax in, or just to enjoy an afternoon cup of tea with cucumber sandwiches in the backyard greenery pavilions.

Most of these homes had inscribed names on the facade and one such name was Posie’s Solace, Juniper’s Eye number 24B. A slim but long house with diamond shaped leaded windows and solid oak doors.

The residents of this address were Aaron Tveit and his eleven minutes older identical twin brother Roger. They’d lived there most of their thirty-one years. The house had belonged to the family for three generations. None of the brothers were in a relationship or even toying with the idea of getting their own space. So when their parents past away, and their younger brother Jon moved out because he wanted to become a priest, the twins just stayed together in the old heirloom.

They loved each other fiercely, though they argued most of the time they spent together, as siblings tended to do.

The twins graduated from RADA at the age of twenty-one. They were both committed to musical theatre and loved everything about acting, singing, and dancing in front of an audience. They were good at it and were cast in several productions the next couple of years. 

Aaron won roles in significant plays on West End. Roger dropped out of theatre early on, because he realised he loved playing the violin and guitar better than acting and joined various obscure rock bands.

Eventually, Aaron was offered acting roles on TV. It was interesting for a while, until he found that he liked what happened behind the camera more. Everything about producing was exciting to him. Aaron got a foot inside BBC, and was soon caught up in all the aspects of how both television and film making was done.

The downside was that he was over stimulated with films and was rarely able to muster the enthusiasm to actually go to a cinema to watch one, when he was off the clock.

Roger laid off the rock bands at the same time Aaron stopped working in musicals. The older twin proceeded to become a barrister branching into representing musicians, actors, and other celebrities. He didn’t look like a lawyer. He still gave off a rock star vibe that might make him come across as somewhat blasé and superficial, when he spent time with certain people in the entertainment business. However, judging him solely by his appearance would be a mistake. He was sharp as a scalpel in court, and his winning rate was not a joke.

Aaron was anything but blasé and superficial. He was keen about the world and especially how the social order in British society had developed drastically during the last ten years. How it had changed the public and the way a person’s worth was measured. His opinion on the matter showed in his productions.

 

~•§•~

 

The twins’ household included one domestic servant, George. His real name was Bryan, but Roger couldn’t be arsed to remember the names of all the servants who came and went in their home. Narrowing them down to George was easier for him. Aaron never had problems remembering names and called the servants by their real name. Just not in front of Roger; he’d only ask him who he was talking about. Usually the Georges understood this when Aaron explained it to them.

These servants weren’t simpletons. They were bought workers from the Community Service System. 

Nowadays, when someone was sentenced for any crime, depending on the level of their sentence and perception, they could be leased for the entire length of their sentence or just some of the time. Thereafter, they would be re-leased until their discharge back into society. This solution was very popular in spite of its obvious flaws.

The British Class System was even more classified than it had been in the old days before CSS had been redesigned within the justice department. Aaron thought that the majority of the population now appeared colder and greedier, when so much cheap labour was to be had. In Aaron's mind, the new structure hadn't even lessened the number of people committing crimes or getting convicted, and Roger could support those figures, so it didn't seem like it was as successful as the government had expected it would be. 

Aaron didn’t really mind because then he’d get to handpick the people he felt comfortable about letting work in their home. At the same time, it was a tiresome disposition. The best servants were usually those with low sentences, but they were also difficult to acquire because they were so popular. A paradox in itself. If you picked a servant of higher level, their crime was more severe, and who wanted a dangerous convict in their home, even if the safety concerning these people was top secured? But wouldn't it be practical if he could find someone who could stay for more than just a few months, and not having to constantly starting all over again training a new person? Of course it would. 

This particular servant, Bryan, had been in the Tveit’s service for three months, and his time was up in less than a week. Aaron admitted that he’d delayed looking for a new male servant to replace him. The twins never bought women, besides they were rarely up for lease. They had had a female servant once, a mistake not to be repeated. The twins hadn’t discussed this because they’d only had male servants so far. Consequently, when Aaron presented the woman to his brother, Roger hadn’t liked the competition around his twin, and Aaron didn’t think it was worth the fight to subject a female servant to that on top of the service sentence. This was also partly why relationships always failed. Neither could stand sharing their twin with a significant other.

With the delay, Aaron might not even be able to get their usual preference of service, because the low sentenced prisoners would be sold out when he got around to it. It constantly slipped his mind at the moment, and Roger certainly didn’t have the time for it. He’d even seriously considered offering Bryan a job in the house. He’d proven to one of the best they’d ever had. But of course, Bryan had to move on with his life.

Currently, Aaron was involved in a new BBC Two series. The actors were the cream of the crop including new talented bloke who coincidentally also graduated from RADA. But even so half way through filming, Aaron already found himself a bit bored with the concept. He longed for an element of surprise and there seldom were with these productions neatly cut to fit in between commercial blocks. 

His itch for something new was happening more often now, and he was aware of how this pattern was becoming a challenge.

Roger had suggested Aaron should look into theatre production. It had been a while since Aaron had been involved in theatre. So far, he had never actually produced a play. Aaron had tried to tell Roger that he wasn’t interested in theatre or musicals anymore, but he was lying to himself. There still was a quiet love for that part of his past.

His twin pushed him and when Roger got free tickets to a small play that had gotten good reviews, Aaron decided to come with him. A colleague of Roger’s had raved on about how great it was, and he should watch it before it was taken down. 

Back then, Aaron had mostly preferred mainstream to experimental theatre. The show they were going to see was far from Aaron’s preferences, but he could acknowledge that perhaps he needed that.

The event would take place the following Thursday.

 

~•§•~

 

Aaron had just gotten back from an auction, the last of the day, and had acquired a level three servant to overlap Bryan’s duties when he was released tomorrow. That way, Bryan wouldn’t be alone on his last night, and the new George, Sebastian, likewise on his first. Sebastian was caught driving too fast one time too many. He seemed in a phase of denial at the moment, as he sat in the car waiting to enter the Tveit’s home. He’d received an eight months CSS sentence for it, for which Aaron had bought the entire time. Sebastian was the second lowest sentenced in the batch the auction house had put out for bidding today, and Aaron was lucky he even got him. Those not auctioned would be sent to real prison. There was only one shot.

“Come in, Sebastian,” Aaron said opening the car door. “You’re cleared in the security system.”

Sebastian got out of the car and looked around timidly. It was already dusk and the house looked welcoming with the lights on on the ground floor.

“I’m afraid you’ll be left on your own tonight,” Aaron said. “It’s not optimal and I apologise for that, but Bryan will sort you out for now. Tomorrow we’ll walk you through your schedule.”

Sebastian just nodded, clearly taken aback that his sentence was real.

Inside the old house, Sebastian’s eyes darted everywhere and Aaron pointed to the old staircase. 

“Let’s get you settled in,” Aaron said and took the lead with Sebastian behind him. “You sleep in here.” He pointed to Bryan’s room. The house had plenty of spare rooms, but the Tveit twins weren’t interested in turning the house into a B&B for criminals and kept just one room furnished and secured for this particular purpose. 

“You’ll sleep on the mattress on the floor and will inherit Bryan’s bed when he leaves tomorrow.” Aaron opened the door without knocking.

“We never knock,” Aaron explained kindly. “It’s not that we don’t think you should have privacy, but you’ve been sentenced, so that privilege is not a variable. To some extent, don't forget that you are to be reckoned as a prisoner. We don’t knock you on the head with it. It’s just what it is, all right?”

Sebastian frowned and looked at Bryan who shrugged. He was used to it.

“My brother, Mr. Roger Tveit, will call you George. Don't take it personally. I will call you Sebastian, when he’s not in the same room. Don't take that personally either,” Aaron said in what could be recognised as a warning.

Sebastian merely shrugged.

“Do you understand?” Aaron asked harder.

“Yes... Mr. Tveit.”

Aaron stepped in front of him and gave him a direct look. “Don’t try and be smart. I’m a reasonable man. Do as you’re told and this will be over before you know it.”

Bryan cleared his throat. “It’s true. My time was up quicker than expected.”

“Thank you, Bryan,” Aaron said still looking at Sebastian. “Now get yourself settled. You will begin your duties tomorrow. Tonight Bryan will make your tea. Go to bed early and be up at 6 o’clock tomorrow. Bryan will help you set the alarm clock."

Sebastian looked uncomfortable, and usually Aaron would be tending this. On this occasion, he didn't have time for it and wasn't proud of how badly that was timed. He had to rely on Bryan.

"I’ve got to be ready.” 

"I'll handle it if there are any issues," Bryan said.

"Right," Aaron said haltingly.

"Go, Mr. Tveit. You have to leave within an hour."

"Right," Aaron said again and then hurried to his own room down the hall. Sitting down on his bed, he looked straight ahead. As always, he wondered if he’d chosen the right person. Some people were actually thrilled by having a dangerous person in their home, but not the Tveit’s. Aaron had looked at Sebastian’s psychological profile, and it only seemed he drove too fast because he had a posh car. Not that he was dangerous per sé. It still left him coming across as a selfish careless person. Well, now he would have a lot of time to reflect on if driving recklessly had been worth it. 

Aaron went to have a look at himself in the mirror; an antique, of course, having been present in this very room for three generations. He looked tired, and wasn’t feeling up to it, but Roger would drag him out of the house if he even hinted he’d prefer to cancel. They weren’t going on their own. Some of his colleagues would be there, too. Aaron had managed to skip the dinner they had planned prior to the play, so at least he’d show up having avoided whatever small talk they’d discussed. Especially their unwelcome advice and opinions regarding whatever challenge he was facing at work, because they always asked ‘How’s the production going?’. Eventually, Aaron had learned to just reply when asked about his work, ‘Fine. Right on time.’

“Fuck it,” he muttered. It would be over in a few hours. 

Going to his wardrobe, Aaron picked a very handsome dark blue suit with a matching vest. It was his ‘power suit’, and he knew it was flattering on him. After a quick shower, Aaron dressed as hurriedly as the attire would allow him. Then he ran his fingers through his reddish blond hair, having decided to leave the stubble. After tying his shoelaces, he then went downstairs to order a cab to pick him up in twenty minutes. Bryan had something ready for him to eat, and Aaron munched on that while he waited for the cab to arrive.

“How's Sebastian doing?" he quickly asked.

"Sleeping," Bryan said.

"Did he need any help?"

"Just one pill."

"Good. He looked jumpy."

"Have a pleasant evening, sir,” Bryan said when the cab honked his horn.

“You, too. See you tomorrow, Bryan,” Aaron said and left the house.

The ride took almost half an hour and he was close to being unfashionably late. Who has shows playing already at six thirty any way? Roger left him two phone calls and three text messages before Aaron decided he couldn’t postpone it anymore and called him back.

“I’m on my way, Roger!”

“We’ll be late.”

“I’m sure they won’t notice,” Aaron argued.

“With barely one hundred seats? I’m positive nobody will notice us barging in to take our seats...” 

Aaron ended the call on him and then the cab arrived at the address. Aaron paid and got out. The building looked like a vacant warehouse but at least the name of the theatre was visible.

“Exotic Bard Travels... with Travels crossed out and ‘Theatre’ scribbled beneath it with glitter...” Aaron snorted. It was actually funny. Exotic Bard Theatre. Hopefully, it indicated that Shakespeare had gotten an up-cycling in the good way and taken for an unexpected spin. Aaron frowned. He should have heard about this if that was the case. BBC would never let an opportunity to broadcast a company like this go their noses by... but then again... BBC...

Aaron entered the foyer and Roger was impatiently waiting for him to practically drag him along.

“We’re already two warning bells late!” He took Aaron’s coat and rushed over to the wardrobe and received a ticket for him.

“So we have a third?” Aaron asked and smiled wryly at him.

“I don't think there’s a third,” Roger said stressed out.

But there it was. The third call, and Aaron just rolled his eyes and accepted the program his twin had procured for him. He appreciated that. There might be some information he needed to investigate afterwards. He wouldn't know until then.

“So what am I being subjected to tonight? Drama? Comedy? Tragedy? Filth? Or an actual musical?” Aaron wriggled his eyebrows and Roger finally laughed.

“Yes. To all. Expect everything and anything.”

With a huff, Aaron found his seat between Roger and a woman from Roger’s work named Catherine he’d met once before.

The lights dimmed. Timed perfectly after all. Roger had gotten them great seats. Not too far to the front and the seats were inclined perfectly so nobody else was in Aaron’s view.

The play was immediately on. Aaron managed to watch the entire play without feeling the restlessness that usually came half during first act. He didn’t even think about checking his phone for messages. He’d actually politely shut it off, which wasn’t what could be said about some of the spectators in the audience.

Throughout the entire performance, Aaron was thrilled by the tenacity of a monstrous creature reaching out to be understood, loved, but eventually being rejected by everyone on his way. It all looked like something out of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein universe, but set in a world of terrorists and the dialogue was delivered in verse like Shakespeare. Aaron should have been appalled by the mix of all these easily recognisable traits, but it was truly fascinating and the international cast’s engagement was staggering.

After the last curtain call, Aaron sat back with a gripping feeling that he had just witnessed something out of the ordinary. The small _something_ he had missed in his own work lately. The play had been outstandingly well executed, and Aaron knew he had to find the responsible production manager or director. Quickly scanning his programme, the name that came up often – even amongst the cast - was one Skylar Astin.

The name had never crossed Aaron in his work, and that was quite a feat when Astin did such an excellent job. On the other hand, if the man worked himself to death doing everything by himself, then it didn’t seem farfetched that Aaron should ever have heard about him. Aaron could easily identify with Astin regarding the stress level and work load that a theatrical director and producer subjected himself to. The bloke had to be desperate for a helping hand and probably a financial benefactor.

On his way to get his coat in the foyer, Aaron realised that he was tempted to be that benefactor.

Turning to his brother, Aaron said, “I’m going to try getting back stage and talk to some people.”

“Oh, really?” Roger asked. “I take it you liked the play?” he teased.

“Yes. It was brilliant,” Aaron said and blinked. 

As soon as Aaron got his coat, he saw an usher walking towards him and stopped the man.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could have a word with Mr. Astin?”

When the man seemed puzzled, Aaron flashed his BBC calling card.

“Aaron Tveit?” the usher said reading the name from the card.

“Yeah. I won’t be long,” Aaron added as if that would make a difference.

“The BBC?”

Aaron smiled and the usher shrugged and took him back stage. The bloke knocked on one of the doors, a short ‘come in’ followed, allowing them entrance where after the usher disappeared.

Aaron opened the door and stepped inside. The dressing room was typical for a theatrical production: Costumes and props everywhere and most graciously a dressing table in a corner. Aaron watched as Astin got out of his costume.

 _“You petrified her and then you scolded her for crying afterwards. Is that the kind of father you want to be?”_ Astin said via the mirror still sounding like the creature.

“Excuse me?” Aaron said, and quickly looked around to see if there were other people present.

“Sorry. I was just rehearsing some ideas. And who might you be?” Aaron was asked. 

Astin’s real voice took him off guard. During the entire performance, the voice he’d used for the creature he’d portrayed had been kept in a sharp high agonised pitch that really cut the audience to the bone. In reality, Skylar Astin spoke in a pleasant tone, and Aaron felt the small hairs on his body rise. His attention threshold was peaked.

The actor wore a plain long-sleeved t-shirt and the black leather trousers the creature had been wearing. Aaron found that he couldn’t stop looking at him, but when the man laughed quietly, Aaron realised he’d spaced out for a while and hurriedly approached the man.

“I’ve come to propose an arrangement.”

“And you are...?” Astin asked and pulled off the long lanky haired wig. A second later, he removed a facial rubbery mask and, to Aaron’s astonishment, Astin had a soft scruff underneath that. 

Aaron couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable and probably also impractical a beard was underneath a mask. But what did he know. “I’m Aaron Tveit. I’m primarily involved in BBC productions and independent movies of my own choice.”

“But not theatre?”

“No.”

Astin regarded him silently for a few moments. The yellow blazing eyes he still wore for the creature were unsettling.

“What _kind_ of arrangement?” Astin asked and carefully removed the contact lenses. His eyes immediately sought out Aaron’s via the mirror. They were brown.

“A financial partnership. I would really like to have a go at producing your plays. Help you out. Financially,” Aaron said and smiled.

Astin cocked his head and half smiled for a moment; it did funny things to Aaron’s stomach.

“No,” Astin then said.

“What do you mean no?” Aaron asked, as his pink cloud vanished.

“I can manage. I don’t need to further more split up what little profit we’re making in the first place.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Still. I already have a business partner.”

“Who?” Aaron couldn’t help demanding to know.

Astin smiled and Aaron had to rub the back of his neck. The hairs were still standing, and he needed to distract himself from the feelings running through him.

“Oscar Putney.”

“Oh... him...” Aaron had heard of him all right, and he didn’t care for his theatrical approach. Putney had come across a few productions Aaron had participated in. He’d been as charming as a snake, a nuisance at each occasion, creating unnecessary drama out of nothing. Almost like a spoiled celebrity and notorious spender of production costs.

“I wouldn’t trust him, if I were y...” Aaron said.

“And my wife. She’s aware of his short comings. It’s working.” Astin was done cleaning his face of makeup, got up, and went to stand in front of Aaron. Compared to Skylar Astin, Aaron was significantly more athletic in built and taller. 

“I just think that if someone’s only sources of income are ticket sales and what money you can put into it yourself. Costs have to be small. I’m used to economise like that. Basically, I’m impressed by this dedication to your art and surviving skills in the entertainment industry and still come out with a professional product.” In Aaron’s book, it looked as if Astin was the one who managed to wring out as much production for the money they had, and Putney who had no clue what a budget was. His creative input had to be of significant worth to Astin, if he tolerated his partnership that much.

“Look... It’s generous of you that you want to support us, but we have all the people we need at the moment.” Astin was looking Aaron straight in the eye. A dedicated, vibrant man with an incredible vulnerability to his facial expression, and Aaron was blown away by the sheer masculinity that radiated from the actor.

“Have a pleasant evening,” Astin said and left the room.

Aaron was still staring until he realised how turned on he’d been throughout their conversation, and how rejected he felt afterwards.

“Bloody hell...” Aaron muttered disappointed and left.

When he met up with his brother again, he found their party outside of the now empty theatre. Roger and the others had planned to go to a club. 

“You coming?” Roger asked and put his arm across Aaron’s shoulder. “What’s with the sad face?”

“He turned down my offer,” Aaron muttered quietly.

“Well, his loss,” Roger said and kissed Aaron’s cheek.

“Yeah. I’ll go with you,” Aaron said disappointed on several levels. He just wanted forget the whole experience.

 

~•§•~

 

Amused, Roger watched how Aaron got sloshed way faster than the rest of the others. Catherine followed him shot by shot with no problems and decided they had to dance. Aaron staggered to his feet and followed her to the dance floor. The fourth member of their party, Hamish, was guffawing and shook his head a few times. 

“What?” Roger asked his colleague coldly. “Did you think you could take her home?”

“Maybe...” Hamish shrugged. “But your brother is cock blocking me.”

Roger scoffed. “Right. I assure you there is no way Aaron is going to cop off with her.”

“She might...”

“No, she mightn’t,” Roger interrupted him, because no way in hell was his beloved twin going to get shagged by one of his fucking colleagues if he could help it. 

“If you say so,” Hamish said not particularly reassured.

“Just did,” Roger replied and took a sip of his pint. The song that was playing was a slow one, and Aaron was into it. His front was plastered to Catherine’s backside and his hips were happily moving and grinding into her. Roger drank some more and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like it. He knew it didn’t mean anything, but he literally detested when Aaron was showing anyone else affection. He didn’t want to lose his little brother. He didn’t even want his brother to have sex with anyone. Roger knew it wasn’t a healthy train of thought, but he’d always hated when Aaron so easily made contact with other people. Roger eased into other people’s person space, too, he just didn’t want to share Aaron with anyone who might take him away from him. Roger’s eyes focused on Aaron’s hips. His fucking gyrating hips, his arse in those tight pinstripe slacks...

The second Catherine looked like she was about to turn around and reel in Aaron for some serious PDA, Roger jumped out of his chair and stalked straight toward them. He glued himself against Aaron’s back. Catherine noticed the slight push and turned her head. Her eyes met Roger’s and the look in his must have made her confused about his intensions. Sending him a flirty look, she thought both twins found her desirable.

What Roger wanted was grind his own cock along Aaron’s backside the way he was probably doing it to Catherine.

Aaron stopped his motions and looked back. “Roger?” he said and smiled. 

“It’s me, Aaron,” Roger whispered hotly into Aaron’s ear. He put his hands on Aaron’s toned thighs and ran his hands up to grab his hips. Aaron laughed and together they moved in a different rhythm than the music. Roger didn’t care if Aaron could feel his hard on. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Why are you so drunk?”

“What?” Aaron asked with a stupid happy smile on his face.

“Why are you so wasted?”

“Don't wanna talk, Roger,” Aaron said and forgot Catherine. Turning away from her, Aaron put his arms around Roger’s neck and moved in very close. Roger caught Catherine’s surprised expression, and he hoped the smile he sent her was apologetic. “I should probably take him home,” he said and removed Aaron’s hands.

Taking him by the hand, he pulled Aaron along back to the table and gathered their things. Hamish nodded but quickly got up, when Catherine also came back to the table.

“Thanks for the evening,” Roger said. “Sorry about this one. He cannot be trusted and will go home with strangers before you know it.” 

Catherine looked weird in the face, and Roger just smiled brilliantly at her to soften the obvious innuendo that she was the stranger, “See you tomorrow. Drive safely.”

“Certainly,” Hamish said. “Can’t hold his liquor, eh?”

“Yes, I can,” Aaron quipped.

“No, you cannot,” Roger said and smiled. “Thanks again. See you at the Office tomorrow.”

Then he threaded his fingers with Aaron’s and dragged him along like a child. 

“Where’s my car?” Aaron wondered when they were outside.

“We’ll get George to pick it up tomorrow. We’re taking my car home.”

“But Bryan is not allowed to drive, Roger.”

“Hush.”

“Hmmmm,” Aaron hummed and snuggled up to Roger once they got seated.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Roger said and ran a hand over Aaron’s coppery hair. His own hair was much lighter, but that came from a bottle. He didn’t have the patience to wait for the sun to do it naturally.

Aaron giggled softly and fought to click the seat belt in place all the way home.

With the car safely parked in the garage, Roger got out and went to help Aaron. His brother had lost his fight with the belt and sat half asleep. With a tired hum, Aaron grabbed Roger’s arms and let himself be pulled out of the car. 

Relieved that he’d managed to prevent Catherine from further advances, Roger hugged his brother lovingly. Taking Aaron’s face into his hands, he kissed his lips softly. 

“I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you,” Aaron responded and blew air out of his nose in lieu of a small laugh. 

Roger nodded. Everything was good. Life was good.

 

~•§•~


	2. Chapter 2

~•§•~ 

 

Looking up from his newspaper, Aaron waited a few moments for Roger to put down his tea cup. 

"More tea?" he asked, and nodded looking over the rim of his own newspaper.

Sebastian neared the dining table and poured him a fresh cup.

"Thank you, George," Roger said, but he didn't really look at the servant. 

“Cream?” Sebastian asked.

Roger’s eyes narrowed. “You know we’re allergic to dairy, and still you ask every fucking morning!”

Startled, Sebastian took a step away. “Sorry, Mr. Tveit. This is soy.”

Roger growled noncommittally, before the topic became boring. Then he changed the subject drastically. "Do you remember the director we met at the Exotic Bard Theatre?" he asked, interrupting Aaron's musings.

Aaron jerked visibly. Of course he remembered him. He’d thought about the encounter more than he should, and requested too many theatre reviews at BBC’s archive. A few months ago, he stopped the unhealthy inquiries because he knew they were fruitless. Astin would never accept a partnership, and Aaron was wise enough not to ask twice.

The whole experience had been backwards for Aaron. He was used to people trying to convince _him_ to put his money into their project, and instead this man - Skylar Astin - patiently listened to him, while at the same time sending this vibe that Aaron's money was not welcome. His rejecting demeanour had angered and turned Aaron on at the same time. The experience had been frustrating.

Wiping his hand across his chin, Aaron recalled the evening when Astin rejected his collaborative proposition. Throughout the entire performance, the man had Aaron sitting on the edge of his seat. Aaron wasn't used to this. He wasn’t desperate for opportunities, when he could pick and choose as he pleased what to produce and whom to employ to achieve it. Quiet dignity held a stronger allure and Astin was authentic, intriguing, and surprising. And Aaron was rarely surprised.

"What about him?" he asked Roger. 

"Page twelve. Auctions," Roger replied. "Seems he's been put up for a level seven auction for fraud.”

"What?!" Aaron basically shouted in honest disbelief.

"And he didn't want your money," Roger stated. “What a strange notion... doesn’t seem to add up.” His forehead was frowned.

"Level seven," Aaron said. That was bad. Very bad. Level seven could give up to ten years of duty.

That simply couldn't be right. The man owned that theatre. How could he be accused of fraud? Roger was right. It was strange. Had Astin been greedy, he would have accepted Aaron's generous offer that night, but he'd rejected it. Quickly, he went to page twelve in his paper. Astin's face was printed alongside other recently convicted people who were now sentenced to be auctioned for CSS.

Maybe he had financial problems from his collaboration with Putney, but then why would he reject Aaron's offer? Hardly pride. He hadn’t seemed the sort of fellow. Feeling adrenaline pulse in his veins, Aaron got up.

"I'm going to my office," he said. “Did you know about this?”

“Sorry. I had no idea. It wasn’t mentioned in the tabloids nor Office.”

“Only goes to show how low key a profile they kept their business.”

“Yes. It’s hard to understand they survived at all to keep production going the last three years.” 

“Yeah,” Aaron said and chuckled but had to swallow immediately after, his heart rate picking up. 

Roger leaned back in his seat. “Aaron... Don’t get all worked up about it.” He wasn’t blind and knew all about Aaron’s recent interest in the independent theatre and its owner.

“I won’t,” Aaron said uncomfortable, but he was already worked up about it. As soon as he reached his office, Aaron headed for his desk, sat down, and booted the computer to life. Immediately, he began searching for information on Astin's trial. 

Roger came in and stood behind him munching on an apple. With Roger being used to access transcripts from court, they found Astin’s easily and together, they read the documents.

Apparently, Skylar Astin had been charged for fraud and found guilty on all accounts. Oscar Putney accused Astin of using their collaboration to his own benefit, then placing the money elsewhere because it was all gone. 

Astin had claimed his innocence, but Putney was able to procure the books that proved someone’s creative accounting. Both Astin and Putney had access to the account, but somehow Astin got the entire blame. 

The theatre owner claimed that somebody had reversed the numbers making it look like he was milking the funds from Putney’s part onto his own, but Aaron could easily imagine it was probably the other way around. Putney didn’t see the ‘Exotic Bard Theatre’ as a mutual creative opportunity but his own private piggy bank. Very clever.

“Astin’s wife was involved in the business part of the theatre,” Aaron remembered the director saying.

“Oh. Really?” Roger asked and turned Aaron’s face up so he could see his eyes. “I already smell a rat... a big smelly one.”

Sebastian stuck his head in and coughed. “Any laundry I can gather from here?” he asked Aaron.

Roger turned and pursed his lips. “No, George. There isn’t.” Then he turned back to Aaron and bent his head back again to look into eyes identical to his own.

“Don’t tell me what’s on your mind. I agree it’s highly suspicious what’s going on, but he’s been found guilty.”

“Those books must have been convincing because the case stinks.” 

“As bad as a bad BBC crime produced by you,” Roger joked.

Aaron snickered. “Yeah, actually. It is.” Bending his head back, Aaron wondered what Putney used that money for. Finding out that the theatre wasn’t benefitting from the collaboration as well as expected and thought he’d straightening it out behind Astin’s back. And now the court had agreed that Astin had committed an economic crime and had to pay for it. "Level seven..." Aaron muttered. An honest man had been sentenced Community Service on a level seven. "Crap, I've got to buy him," Aaron realised. 

Roger snorted. “You’re so predictable, darling.”

“Piss off,” Aaron muttered and pulled out Astin's auction info. Quickly, he read some facts about Astin which would be of interest to a potential buyer.

"Skylar Astin. Born in New York but moved to London three years ago – oh, just like us, Roger,” Aaron said and sent his twin a dirty look. “Must be fate then...”

“Yeah, yeah. Move on, Aaron.”

Aaron coughed and put on a commercial voice just to entertain Roger. “Skylar is twenty nine years old, 178 centimetres, brown eyes, brown hair, normal built, health check score 95%, STD score: 100%, latent asthmatic which requires a smoke free home – no problem there, pollen allergic to grass and mugwort...” Aaron stopped and bit his lip. This part... the whole presentation of level seven convicts was rather disturbing. 

“At the age of fifteen, Skylar had his appendix removed... strong arms and legs, pert buttocks, flaccid cock size... Jesus..." Aaron shut down the lid to his laptop and looked away. Only someone interested in Astin's body would find that description relevant. Aaron had never needed to study the info for a level seven convict before. It was daunting and he dreaded even more how Astin's future could be destroyed, if he ended up in the wrong hands. His health data should be the most important, not his physical virtues. 

Looking up, he noticed that Roger was decidedly not looking back at him. This didn’t sit well with his twin either. 

Wow.

And he’d actually met this guy.

Aaron fidgeted with his tea cup. The fact was that a handsome man like Astin could be bought for all kinds of services. To some extent, the buyer could do anything to a level seven servant except physical assault - but due to their crimes, level seven servants were in general unwanted in society. Most people looked through their fingers, if they witnessed violence committed toward these servants, because they usually suffered the punishment they deserved.

The law concerning these matters weren't always air tight, but buyers had been prosecuted themselves for mistreating a servant beyond reason. Aaron found himself urgently wanting to save Astin from experiencing any of this. He could risk being bought by a public brothel. The trend had become more common, and these unfortunate people stood a small chance of ever getting out of there, even after their community duty was over. In a place like that, even if publicly administered, chances were that incidents occurring would prolong their punishment for so-called bad behaviour. It was disgusting.

“You’d better get over there, Aaron,” Roger said, knowing exactly what went on in Aaron’s head.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” was all Aaron replied and quickly left the room.

Hurriedly changing into his street clothes, Aaron then had to get down to the Magistrate and see if he could make some sort of deal before the auction itself. That was the way he usually handpicked their servants, and he hoped it wouldn't be any different this time – especially with a level seven convict.

“You want me to come with you?” Roger asked when they crossed paths in the hall.

“Really?” Aaron asked incredulous.

“This is different,” Roger admitted and put an arm around Aaron’s waist. “I can prod the right people, sniff out some of the inconsistencies and what not.”

“What not indeed, councillor, but I think we’ll just start with him coming back here and get adjusted from the shock of the trial, all right?”

Roger smiled and pulled Aaron closer. Aaron dropped his forehead against his brother’s.

When Roger’s hands squeezed Aaron’s arse, the younger twin pulled out of the embrace. “See you, dimwit.”

“Likewise, wanker.”

 

~•§•~

 

Having done that so many times already, Aaron filled out a Standard Requisition required of a potential buyer off auction, before he was even being allowed into the auction department of the Magistrate. Once there, Aaron’s number was almost announced the second he ripped off the slip from the turn-o-matic stand. He'd anticipated there would be more people lined up to carry out the same business as Aaron, but apparently, there wasn't that many interested in leasing high levelled convicts today.

Aaron went down a corridor and found his number flashing in LED lights on top of the door frame. It was very bureaucratic. Politely, he knocked on the door and stepped into the office that matched his number.

"Hello," he said and greeted the clerk waiting for him and sat down in the chair opposite the woman sitting behind her desk. "I'd like to make a community service reservation to be auctioned today." He pulled out his identity card to speed up the procedure.

As the clerk activated his card, she asked, "Whom do you have in mind... Mr. Tveit?"

"I would like to reserve the rights to lease Skylar Astin. A level seven convict..."

The clerk looked at him quickly. "Have you previously employed a level seven convict, sir?"

"No. This will be my first."

"You've never employed servants higher than level two so far. You're sure you're equipped to deal with a level seven?"

"If I can lease Mr. Astin, I doubt there will any problems. He was charged for fraud. I don't expect any hostile surprises from his part. But yes, I am equipped to deal with him security wise."

“Do you know each other?” she asked to ensure there was no evil blood behind Aaron asking for a specific servant.

Aaron had met him yes, spoken to him, but knowing him? “No. We don’t have a past,” Aaron answered somewhat truthfully. "It's all there in my file," he continued, knowing the lady knew how to find that bit of information herself. Her asking him about it was just standard procedure.

Clicking away on her mouse, she finally said, "Skylar Astin. Yes, he's scheduled to be auctioned this afternoon at 1pm. You're in luck, Mr. Tveit. No one else has claimed his services yet. You can lease him right away, if you'd like," she said.

"Good. I want him for his entire sentence."

"City is asking for 15,000 credits. Standard fee for economic crime sentences."

"Ah. Do I have to acquire the assistance of a guard to transport him?" Aaron asked as he watched her fill out a new acquisition form on her computer.

"No, as you rightly said, Mr. Astin hasn't been any trouble at all. You do realise you’ll lose your bargain right by buying Mr. Astin outside of the auction, Mr. Tveit?" she informed him because that's how procedure was.

"Yes, I am aware of that," Aaron replied trying not to sound annoyed. "I always buy my servants outside of the auction," he said just as dutifully, all though she could see in his file that this was his standard preference. 

Then she checked his credential status and barely kept back a gasp. Mr. Tveit was worth 12,6 million credits. She cast a closer look at the wealthy buyer sitting in front of her desk.

He was of average height and built. His eyes were blue, reddish hair. Apart from the last name, ‘Typical Irish’, she wrongly guessed. Mr. Tveit’s face was angular, intelligent, and alert. According to his private info, there was also an R. Tveit on the same address, which she could only assume meant he was also a very married man. 

Her body language changed subtly. Married men were no obstacle to some people. Just a challenge.

Aaron noticed right away and rolled his eyes inwardly, when he saw her give him the once over. Since the female servant incident, Aaron had been with three women. Due to the mutual jealousy between him and Roger, he slept with his encounters elsewhere. That didn’t prevent Roger from guessing what exactly Aaron had been up to when he came home. The rows over sex partners were tedious and he sometimes wondered what exactly was wrong with their relationship. It wasn’t as if the twins were sexually inclined towards each other. Still, the dynamic between them was unhealthy at times with the ruthless, territorial squeeze they had on each other’s balls. 

In the meanwhile, the secretary had printed the form he needed to sign that allowed City Hall to withdraw the credits from his account - and Astin would be his until his sentence was served... or Aaron chose to lease him to someone else should he wish to. Glancing at the form, Aaron saw that Astin would be his for six years. He couldn't help smiling. He couldn't help looking forward to it. He just hoped Astin could live up to his expectations. Now he would have to work with Aaron - day in and day out. 

Quickly, he signed the papers and the woman made the transaction. Then she printed another form for Aaron to sign.

“This is the requisition for the items on Mr. Astin’s person on his imprisonment. They can be collected in building B.”

Aaron knew where to collect effects belonging to the servants he leased, so he just signed with no comment and got his copy.

“All yours,” she said.

Aaron just nodded as he put the papers in the inside pocket of his jacket.

There was only one thing left; to go and pick up Skylar Astin from the auction house.

 

~•§•~

 

Skylar’s recent months were the worst he’d ever been through, after he'd been accused by Oscar Putney of committing fraud against his own theatre. He'd been in shock and later in denial as the evidence against him grew water proof. Eventually, he'd been found guilty but still not really grasping the seriousness of the condition he was now in. He couldn't understand Oscar would do this to him. They could have settled this as civilised people. What he'd done was stealing Skylar's work from him and ruining his name in the business. 

He would be auctioned away to a complete stranger and expected to perform duties for this person. Feeling his heart pump faster, Skylar tried to calm himself.

Only when he was brought to his cell in the auction house did it finally hit him where he was headed. With glee one cellmate had explained to him in Technicolor what he could expect from the six years of CSS he was sentenced to.

"You'll probably end up in a whore house. They like pretty boys. You're kind of handsome,” he’d had the audacity to say to him. Now, if there was one thing Skylar knew he wasn’t and that was a pretty boy.

"I'm not exactly a boy," Skylar pointed out, but he didn't look at the man. He was terrified that the man could be right. "I'm not a boy..." he shook his head. What a stupid thing to point out. But then the man's comment had been equally as stupid. Skylar was pushing thirty - an age where you barely remembered what it was like to be a 'boy'. But it depended on the individual point of view he supposed. 

Pretty... Skylar shook his head again. Not really agreeing on that point either. Brattish, cheeky... he'd been all of those things in his youth. Now he was just a naïve fool who let himself get into a terrible mess because his lawyer couldn't prove his innocence. And now he was only a few hours from being auctioned away to serve a stranger for six fucking years. 

The trial had been incredibly strenuous, stressful, and his belief in justice shattered. He'd never bought a servant from an auction himself, but thought the mechanism was a well thought out way to get people back into society. But Skylar knew of incidents where people never returned to society again, and there were several trials born from that; where had the buyer's servant mysteriously disappeared to? So buyers were also put on trial simply for having mistreating or being careless about their servant's whereabouts.

"Astin!" a shout came accompanied by a magistrate guard.

"Already?" Skylar said softly, his heart started pounding again from the adrenaline rush of fear. It was barely lunch time. Approaching the opening of the cell where electrocuting beams kept the prisoner inside, he stood quietly and watched the guard pull out some handcuffs.

"You've been prematurely leased, Astin. No auction for you."

Processing this was difficult and the shock was visible on Skylar's face. 

"All right?" the guard asked.

"I-I..." Skylar stuttered. He was probably not all right.

"You were informed that it could happen. That someone might buy you before the auction."

"Must have slipped my mind," Skylar said. 

“Requesting entry! Cell 08,” the guard said into his intercom. The electric beams were shut off and he stepped into Skylar’s cell.

"Turn," the guard said and activated Skylar's electronic handcuffs. "Forward," the next command came prompt, and together they headed for the exit.

"Do you know who it is?" Skylar asked.

"No idea, mate. Some hot shot loaded with money probably. You'll know soon enough," the guard said.

"That's certainly reassuring," Skylar murmured. Around the corner, they were met with an armed guard who joined the escort.

Skylar was shaking inside, clenching his stomach from nerves. 

"Calm down," the guard said quietly.

Taking a few calming deep breaths, Skylar waited for the elevator to bring them to the next level. There he would soon meet his buyer and owner. For how long that working relationship would last, he was still to be told. 

Stepping out before the guard, Skylar shuffled forward and seconds later, he saw his buyer.

"You!" he exclaimed surprised.

 

~•§•~

 

"You!"

Aaron stood calmly waiting for the shock to dissolve from Astin's face. The man looked like he was partially relieved that it could have been worse, but that expression was quickly taken over by the fear of what kind of existence someone like Aaron had planned for him.

"All yours, sir," the guard said. Since Aaron had declined having Astin handcuffed, he was handed his servant uncuffed. The guard scanned the chip in Astin's bicep and that was it. They were free to leave the Magistrate Court. 

"Thrilled to see me, Skylar?" Aaron asked, as they went down the corridor towards the front gate.

"I'm not sure what to feel to be honest, but I am aware that I could have ended up worse."

"You're probably already wondering what I'm expecting of you?"

"Yes," Skylar admitted.

"We'll have a proper talk when we get home," Aaron said, and Skylar just nodded. "I see you’re already wearing your street clothes. I’ve collected your stuff so unless you’ve forgotten something to claim...?” Aaron opened the brown paper bag and showed him the contents.

Skylar looked but shook his head. "No. None."

"All right. Then we're out of here."

Aaron led them to his car in the car park basement and they drove home in silence, each with a lot on their mind.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the Tveit's residence and, after activating the gate, they drove up the small promenade leading to the house. Trees and bushes in autumn colours adorned the pebbled road all the way and gave a calm feel to the premises.

Skylar took a shuddering breath. He wasn’t feeling calm at all. Everything that had happened hit him right then and there. Putting a hand against his mouth, he tried to kill the sob but it still came out audibly enough.

Aaron stopped the car and turned halfway. "Are you all right?"

Skylar shook his head and shuddered again. "Need to get out. Now."

"Of course," Aaron quickly said.

Opening the door, Skylar got out and stood heaving for breath. Dizziness came on top of that and he felt his knees getting too weak to carry his weight. The next moment, he sensed Aaron grasping his middle and keeping him on his feet.

"Thanks... Mr. Tveit," Skylar said as the world started to spin.

"All right?" Aaron asked worriedly.

"May... be..." Skylar didn't really want to talk. He wanted to go to sleep and only wake up when he’d served his time.

The wind played with his hair and he realised he'd lost track of time. He was still in Aaron Tveit's garden with the older man holding him up. 

"Better?" Tveit asked him with a slightly amused lilt to his voice.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Skylar said and motioned to slip out of Aaron’s grasp, but his leaser just held tighter.

“Calm down, Skylar,” Aaron ordered the shaking man. “We have all the time in the world to get you through the next thirty minutes.”

Skylar felt tears pushing out, running down his cheeks in a hot endless stream. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. Crying like a baby in a man’s arms. How humiliating and in front of Tveit of all people. He knew this feeling all too well. When he was acting, sometimes if he played an emotional scene it could take some time for his body to realise that it wasn’t supposed be sad any longer, whereas his brain had been aware much earlier. Tears would still arrive nevertheless. He was going through the same emotions now only it was shockingly real.

Tveit however didn’t look like he cared about Skylar crying. He was still keeping him on his feet, and a palm ran soothingly across his back. In what felt like an eternity, Skylar’s gasps became fewer and tentatively, he sought eye contact with his owner.

Aaron’s attention found his as well and he smiled wryly. “All right?”

Nodding, Skylar smiled self-consciously and extracted himself from Tveit immediately.

“I didn’t want someone else buying you,” Tveit said. “You’re a genius. You don't belong in this situation to begin with.”

Skylar froze. “What are you talking about?”

“The trial? I believe you were innocent. You don't belong in a level seven sentence.”

“What makes you think that?” Skylar said.

“You’re not greedy. You’re smart but you use your brains to fix problems not making short cuts.”

“You don't know the first thing about me, Mr. Tveit. Not a fucking thing,” Skylar said, brown eyes blazing with indignation. “I went through trial to...” then he realised he was arguing with his owner, and in spite of the friendly demeanour Tveit had shown him so far, he was out of line. He closed his mouth instantly and apologised. Whatever opinion Tveit had of him, right or wrong, Skylar shouldn’t make assumptions they were on the same page. Tveit had leased his service not his personal baggage.

“I’m sorry. I was...”

“Skylar?” Aaron reached out to him.

Skylar jerked in surprise, body tense with anticipation, but Tveit just put his hands on his shaved cheeks and drew him closer. So close they were staring into each other’s irises. “You will never be forbidden to speak your mind. Just don’t make me feel like I shouldn’t have done this _for_ you. As you said yourself, you could have ended up worse. Much worse.”

Skylar cringed inwardly. “Okay. I understand.”

“Good.” Tveit let go and crossed his arms over his chest. “My expectations... You’ll function as a servant. In a month, poor Sebastian will be out of our hair and return back to society. You however, will stay with us for a bit longer. I leased you for your entire sentence. You won’t be passed around like a toy. I might grow tired of you and vice versa, but that’s tough. We’re stuck with each other.”

“What kind of servant?” Skylar asked hesitantly, a tic in his cheek vibrated slightly. The possibilities were endless or extremely simple.

“My personal servant,” Mr. Tveit revealed.

Skylar swallowed nervously and he started to shake slightly with another adrenaline attack.

“We always lease a male servant for the domestic chores, but I don't really see you doing the dishes.”

 _That only leaves personal assistance then,_ Skylar thought with growing dread.

“We’ll be creative partners. I want you to do what you do best, Skylar. I want you to continue cultivating your writing skills. I want you to help me in production.”

Air rushed out of Skylar’s lungs and he almost passed out with relief.

“Let’s get you inside and in bed. I think you’ve been through enough for today,” Tveit said.

 

~•§•~

 

Inside the house, Aaron operated the security settings to include Skylar so his presence wouldn’t set off the wrong alarms.

“All set. You’re now a member of the house hold,” Aaron said.

Skylar didn’t say anything.

“Let’s get you settled, shall we?” Aaron said and pointed to the small domestic elevator. “Faster this way.” When they arrived to the first floor, Aaron led him to a guest room that Roger had readied for him. Somehow, they’d agreed on Skylar deserving his own room away from Sebastian.

“This is going to be your room.” 

“Fine,” Skylar said and quickly darted his eyes around. 

Aaron looked and his eyes fell on the bed. “Get some sleep. You must be exhausted.”

Skylar didn’t respond but Aaron felt him tensing yet again.

“You know what? Get undressed and I’ll fetch you a sleeping pill.”

“It’s really not necessary...” Skylar quickly said followed by a nervous smile.

“Yes, it is,” Aaron said in a tone that made it clear to Skylar that this wasn’t negotiable. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

His own bedroom was on the same floor and he went to his bathroom and picked the desired medicine and stuck the bottle in his pocket. Grabbing a glass he filled it with water. In his wardrobe, he found some pyjamas bottoms and brought them along. 

Returning, Skylar was still standing in the same spot.

“Get undressed, Skylar,” Aaron said kinder.

The man looked like he was on the verge of crumbling again and Aaron had to remind himself of what he’d been through lately.

“All right. Perhaps I should help you?” Aaron asked and put the glass on the night stand.

“No...” Skylar said instantly. “I... I can manage. I’m sorry.” Then he unbuttoned his shirt and trousers and folded them. Putting them on a chair, he looked back at Aaron who offered the pyjamas. “Thank you,” Skylar said and put them on. Then he anticipated Aaron’s next question and slipped into bed.

While he was doing that, Aaron picked out two pills. He took Skylar’s hand and put them there. “Take them while I watch.”

Skylar exhaled fearing what it might imply and what could happen to him while he slept. Nevertheless with a defeated look on his face, he took the pills and swallowed them with the water. “Shall I stick out my tongue?” he asked sarcastically.

Aaron chuckled at the spirit and humour in that question but he shook his head. “No. I’ll just watch you fall asleep. Make sure nothing happens to you.”

“Like what?” Skylar asked as he lay down, and pulled the duvet closer.

“Bad dreams,” Aaron said kindly and pulled out a chair to sit on. Skylar looked at him for a while, but steadily his eyes became heavier as he tried to resist the inevitable. 

 

~•§•~

 

Someone had greased him well with terror stories was Aaron’s conclusion, as he quietly sat watching Skylar fight his demons until sleep took over and knocked him unconscious.

Aaron hoped he hadn’t been too cruel to Skylar. The poor bloke was so fragile with nerves he’d feared he’d have to get Sebastian help him carry him to the house. However, it hadn’t been necessary, and now Astin was asleep in his own bed in Aaron’s house. He’d pushed the man to take the sleeping pills, but he needed him well rested and clear minded. 

Aaron came downstairs again and was met by Roger.

“Well?” he asked.

“I gave him some sleeping pills. He’s completely out of it. I can’t really blame him.”

“So he’s asleep?”

“Yes.”

“I want to see him for myself,” Roger said and ran upstairs like the silly school boy he was at times. Aaron came afterwards albeit taking his time.

When Aaron stepped into the room, he saw Roger hovering over the bed. Astin was in deep sleep and Roger was touching his face.

“How quaint,” Roger said quietly. “I can’t blame that you find him alluring.”

“He’s not alluring...” Aaron said, but Roger just tutted.

“Don’t even try,” he said. “You’re attracted to him.”

Aaron opened his mouth to protest again but stopped. He wasn’t sure what he felt. “I don't know what I feel, so don’t start.”

“No fucks given,” Roger shrugged and pulled Aaron close to his side. Aaron put an arm around Roger’s waist as his twin put his across Aaron’s shoulder.

“Wanna sleep in my bed?” Roger asked and pouted at Aaron.

“Not tonight,” Aaron dismissed him. “I’d better stay close in case he wakes up in the middle of the night.”

“What? Did you give him rape drugs?”

Aaron frowned. “No...! You read too much fiction.”

“Or just seeing too many cases of the sort in court.”

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“No. My client died.”

Aaron disentangled himself. “Roger?”

“Just kidding. They dropped the charges.” Roger’s sense of humour wasn’t suited for the fragile minded. “What are we gonna do with him?” Roger asked and cocked his head.

“What I initially wanted to: Production.”

“I don’t think we can squeeze many kids out of this fellow, I’m afraid,” Roger said.

Aaron just rolled his eyes. 

“I want to dig into his case,” Roger added. “It still stinks, but I like the smell. It’s meaty.”

Aaron smiled and his arm found its way back to Roger’s waist. “Perhaps I will sleep in your bed tonight after all.”

“We could put up one of those baby alarms in here. That way you’ll know if he wants warm milk in the middle of the night.”

Aaron snorted. “All right. But you buy it.”

 

~•§•~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ludicrous trial coming up in this chapter. Consider yourself warned.

~•§•~

 

Skylar sat up with a loud gasp. Looking around disorientated he didn’t recognise his surroundings, and his heart was racing much too fast. Pushing the duvet down he saw that he was dressed in nice pyjamas that didn’t belong to him and slowly everything came back. He was leased to the producer who suggested a collaborate production of his plays a while ago.

Carefully, Skylar swung his legs to the edge of the bed and a small cough had him look up.

“Slept well?” Mr. Tveit asked. Skylar nodded slowly, automatically. In truth, he had no idea how he’d slept. He couldn't remember dreaming anything.

“Are you hungry?”

“What time is it?” Skylar asked.

“Why? Are you late for something?”

Skylar didn’t like the sarcasm thrown at him, and he was still on guard, still unsure why Mr. Tveit truly bought him and what for.

“You’re quite passable when you sleep,” the man said, and Skylar felt the hairs on his body rise. That was probably even creepier than the horrors the other convict had entertained him with yesterday. Was that still yesterday? How long had he slept?

Skylar decided to ignore his owner’s remark and asked exactly that, “How long have I slept?”

“Roger, piss off would you?” a similar but smoother version of the same voice said. Another Mr. Tveit stepped into the room, and Skylar’s eyes widened in wonder. There were two of them.

“You’ve slept about 36 hours. I’m sure you needed it.”

Skylar looked at Mr. Tveit – the correct one – and then back at ‘Roger’.

“Twins. Surprise,” Roger said and cocked his head the same way Aaron Tveit did. It was fascinating. 

Aaron seemed to realise they were copying each other, turned his brother physically around, and pushed him toward the door. 

“Go. And stay gone.”

Roger stuck his head back inside and smiled, “Welcome by the way. To the Tveit Casa. Mi casa e tu c...”

Aaron shut the door in his face and turned to look at Skylar with a forced smile, “You’ll grow to tolerate him. He’ll probably call you George just to annoy you. You’ll get used to that...”

“George?” Skylar repeated.

“Yes. Sorry. I foresee some domestic conflicts when we get the new house servant in a short while, if Roger insists on calling the both of you George.”

Skylar snorted and then laughed a little desperately. 

“I’ll have Sebastian bring you some clothes...”

“Sebastian?”

“He’s George. I call him by his real name... unless Roger is close by. He’ll just make a big deal out of who Sebastian is. He loves drama.”

Skylar sat down and just nodded. Then his eyes found Aaron’s and they looked at each other for several moments.

“I’d better fetch him then,” Aaron said and left.

Skylar sighed deeply, and felt his breath not quite as calm as he’d want it to be. He was nervous, anxious really, and he wasn’t used to feeling like that. The deep sleep he’d awoken from had been wonderful truly, and he knew he hadn’t slept like that since before the trial.

A man knocked on his door and stepped into the room. Skylar stood up instantly. He was dressed in a servant’s uniform of a kind, black trousers, white shirt, and a black waistcoat. What he was carrying weren’t servants’ clothes. They were a pair of blue jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a sweater. Skylar already had shoes and socks, and the casual clothes were surprisingly calming.

The facial expression on the man’s face however, wasn’t. “What makes you so fucking special? And why do you have your own room?”

“George, was it?” was Skylar’s only response.

Sebastian’s face twitched in annoyance but he didn’t reply.

“I’m not a domestic servant.”

“What are you then?”

Just to throw the shock factor in the man’s face, Skylar replied with fake cheer, “I’m going to be their fuck toy.”

Sebastian did drop his jaw and just stared at Skylar. “Oh...” he said.

Skylar raised his eyebrows challengingly, but Sebastian didn’t have a comeback.

He put the clothes on Skylar’s bed and went for the door. Before he stepped out of the room, he said, “Breakfast is ready. You’re expected downstairs.”

Skylar fell back on his bed and smiled. Sebastian actually felt sorry for him. The not fun part of what he’d said to him was that Skylar still wasn’t sure why the twins had leased him.

Aaron had boldly said he wanted Skylar to help him producing, but wouldn’t he grow bored of that eventually? Systematically, he dressed while his brain droned on about his owners’ expectations.

 

~•§•~

 

Roger was busy scribbling on a piece of paper when Skylar finally showed up. Looking up, he couldn’t help smirking when Skylar’s eyes restlessly took notice of the room’s decor.

“Old house,” Roger stated the obvious.

“Very nice. Spacey,” Skylar said and smiled nervously.

Roger thought the man was incredibly insecure considering he was an actor used to fake personalities. But obviously not his own. He was super conscious about the reality he was in presently; mentally preparing himself for whatever could happen to him from one moment to the next.

“Could you do me a favour, George?” Roger asked, and Skylar quickly glanced at him, remembering the man had this thing about naming their servants George.

“Yes?”

“Sit down across from me and count to twenty-eight... inwardly if you prefer.”

Skylar’s eyes darted to the chair Roger referred to and with measured steps he went and sat down. He folded his hands in front of him and looked at Roger. He understood the counting had been a rhetorical request.

“Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

“No thank you. Who are you, if I may ask?” Skylar then said.

Roger smiled. “I’m the naughty twin. You’ll probably be able to breathe easier when Aaron shows up.”

“Roger...” Skylar confirmed and then he smiled slightly.

Ignoring the smile, Roger narrowed his eyes. Skylar Astin wasn’t entirely self-conscious. There was stubbornness within that made him different than most people who’d previously worked in this house. Roger understood completely why Aaron thought this person would be an asset. Roger would do his best to support that. 

“Good morning,” Aaron said when he entered later, and greeted the people present in the room. He went to the small buffet and picked a few things to put on his plate. It was one of the best times of the day for both twins. Reaching the table, he put down his plate and went to kiss Roger’s cheek with a small smile on his face. 

Roger turned his head and caught Aaron’s lips instead. Straightening up Aaron sent him a mildly disappointed look, but cupped his hand on Roger’s face for a few moments before he sat down.

Sebastian sprung to life from his position nearby and picked up the pot to pour Aaron some tea. 

“Thank you, George,” Aaron said and looked at Skylar who’d followed the entire interaction with huge eyes.

Pushing his chair back a bit, Roger watched the two of them. Aaron was always comfortable in his skin, eating his breakfast whereas Skylar looked like he’d seen a ghost. Roger chuckled. “Don't worry, Skylar. I won’t kiss you... well, probably not.”

Aaron stopped eating and sent Roger a glare. “Don’t fuck with him,” he warned his twin.

Roger shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure.”

Skylar looked positively ill.

“He won’t,” Aaron promised him. “Have you eaten?”

Skylar nodded.

“Good. I’ll only be a second. Then we can go to my office.”

Skylar looked at Roger who winked back and slurped his tea obscenely loud.

 

~•§•~

 

Aaron stuck the key in the keyhole and let Skylar into his and Roger’s comfy office. He didn’t lead Skylar to sit in front of his desk. Instead, he pointed to the small settee in the corner by the windows. Skylar looked out and Aaron knew the garden was appealing. The actor in the man made him not react to what he saw. It was a shame.

“Sit down, Skylar,” Aaron asked him. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, sir,” Skylar said dutifully and his mouth twitched into sort of a smile.

“Right...” Aaron said and nodded. “I’ve had this conversation one time too many with a lot of servants on the day after they were handed over into my custody. You haven’t processed the magnitude yet, and I’m lenient about that. So today, I thought you could tidy up a bit in here. I’ve prepared something for you to go through. They are not important things. You can’t fuck up this task. I just want you to have something to do to let your mind at ease.”

Skylar looked at him and then nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Tveit.”

“You’re welcome. Let me show you what I want you to do.”

The two went to one of the desks where stacks of cardboard portfolios were boasting at the seams with clip outs, files, and what not in them. 

“What are they?”

“Reviews, promising productions, memories. They’re not important. Although, please don’t put stuff from one folio to another. Otherwise, how they’re sorted is not important. It’s literally just something to occupy your mind. They have been sorted many times, so you get the picture of their unimportance...”

“I get the picture,” Skylar said and looked grateful for the task at hand.

“However,” Aaron said with a huge smile, “Should something cross your mind of importance regarding these files, feel free to tell me. I can barely remember what’s in them and I might have missed an opportunity that you might see in them.”

Skylar looked surprised. “You really want me to work with you?”

“That’s right,” Aaron said. “ _With_ you.”

“I sincerely wish I had taken your offer back then.”

“Me, too, Skylar. But we both know that didn’t work out,” Aaron said and left him to it.

 

~•§•~

 

“Everyone’s a catch until they’re caught,” Aaron heard Roger say when he returned to the dining room.

“Who are you educating?” he asked his twin.

“ _Whom_ , dear Aaron. This young fellow.” Roger nudged his chin at Sebastian.

Aaron scoffed quietly, because Roger and Sebastian didn’t care much for each other. 

“Don’t cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it,” Roger continued his lecture.

“I’m not, Mr. Tveit.”

“Leave him alone, Roger. He knows he made a mistake, and I’m positive driving too fast is not the first thing on his mind when he leaves this household,” Aaron said. He put his briefcase on the table and rifled through it to make sure he had what he needed.

“Did you make him a sandwich, George?”

“No, he didn’t because I don't bring food to work, Roger,” Aaron replied absentminded for the servant who had learned that the jibe between the brothers was rhetorical.

Roger went to stand next to Aaron. He sent Sebastian an evil eye and the servant left them right away.

“Stop doing that. They get the creeps.”

“I don't care, my darling.” Roger looked at Aaron appreciatively. 

“You’re a nutter, you know that?” Aaron turned his head and looked into his eyes, although Roger’s were slightly darker. He must be horny or something. Aaron pushed Roger away and slipped past him.

“I won’t be home until much later.”

“Okay...” Roger said and cocked a hip. “I’m going to look into Astin’s case today.”

“Oh, good! He could use some encouragement.” Closing the briefcase, Aaron nodded determined. “Don't ogle my arse, pervert,” he chuckled as he left.

“I wasn’t...” he heard Roger say with a responding chuckle of his own.

 

~•§•~

 

Roger kept his promise and eventually dug into Skylar’s case. 

Two weeks after Aaron had asked Astin to sort out the insignificant files, Roger took his time to professionally ask the man what exactly had happened.

“If you want me to, I can reopen the case if I find grounds or new evidence. You cannot be convicted again, but Putney can.” Skylar looked apprehensive, afraid even. “Cannot hurt to talk about it. You decide, Skylar.”

The fact that Roger even addressed the man by his real name, seemed to calm him. “So you’re a lawyer?” Skylar asked.

“Yes. I am.”

“Well. I guess it can’t hurt, right?”

“No. Tell me in your own words.” Roger said. He was doing this for him, but also for Aaron. He’d do anything to make his twin happy.

“I trusted him. We’re childhood friends from the States. He got a job opportunity like six years ago and moved here. Then he asked me to come aboard and I moved here, too. He even introduced me to my wife.”

“How long have you been married?”

“About two years. One and a half there about.”

“Getting blurry?” Roger asked. That husbands seemed to lose grasp of these details in time was a common thread amongst Roger’s clients.

Skylar sighed and looked down at his hands in his lap.

“How soon after you met her were you married?”

“A few months. Love at first sight, you know?”

Roger just grimaced. He had no clue about love at first sight. He and Aaron didn’t really do love. But he could emphasise that Skylar felt it strongly enough to marry his wife. He just thought it was a little too fast.

“And how was her relationship with Mr. Putney?”

Skylar began squirming slightly. He didn’t like the question.

“You should really answer this because it’s been bugging you, right?” Roger encouraged.

“They were close,” Skylar whispered.

“Did they have an affair?”

“I don't know.”

“Right,” Roger stalled. Of course, Skylar knew. He would have to be stupid not to have a gut feeling about it. “Did this question come up in court?”

“Yes, but it was stricken from the record.”

“Ah. That’s why I couldn’t find anything in the transcript,” Roger said and took some notes. He had to dig into that. “Was your wife questioned?”

“No. Because of the ‘spouses can’t be forced to testify against their husbands’ law.”

“How convenient. May I ask...” Roger pondered and got up. He walked a bit back and forth. “Are you and your wife still married?”

Skylar looked positively sad now. Roger guessed the answer was no. 

“When?”

“I got the divorce a week ago.” 

Oh. Well, Roger hadn’t noticed if Skylar had seemed particularly sad a week ago when that happened. Then again, Aaron’s pet sat cooped up sorting files all day long.

“Because of my level sentence a spouse can demand divorce to be effectuated immediately,” Skylar said. 

“As soon as you sign the paper?” he asked.

“Yes,” Skylar said sadly.

“Have you?”

Skylar nodded miserably. Again, his sentence would force him to cooperate.

“And she already has?”

“Yes.”

“Not wasting time there. Does she live with Mr. Putney?”

“I-I think so... Like I said... they were good friends.”

“Close. You said close,” Roger reminded him. Gods, what a gullible fool Skylar had been. “So – since I assume she’s basically your not-wife any longer, she could be put on the stand for questioning, if it came to it?”

Skylar didn’t answer. The question was superflous anyway.

“You know, taken into consideration that this was a case based on fraud, according to the transcript, I find that despairingly little attention has been paid to the accounts in question.”

“Yes. And I couldn’t address it in court because nobody asked. My words would just have been stricken from the transcript.”

“Wow...” Roger said looking fondly at Skylar. “Your lawyer must have been unbelievably incompetent. You should have had a re-trial.” Roger was almost flabbergasted. “But evidently never happened... Look. You’re clever. I know this because of all the things you have achieved, and Aaron wouldn’t stop raving about your talent weeks after we saw your play.”

“You both saw it?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, man. It was brilliant. My brother was really miffed you let him down.”

“I was afraid his money would change what we were trying to create.”

“You could have negotiated that.”

“Also... Oscar – Mr. Putney, had specifically not wanted anyone to sniff into our books.”

“Obviously. You said he invited you to come to England and work with him. But it seems like you did all the work and he just sat back and did... well nothing.”

“I know. It became clearer after a while, but then again it went really well, and I was happy with the artistic expression I had free hands to create. Oscar didn’t meddle in that.”

“Just paid the bills?”

“Well, I thought he did.”

Talking some more, Roger learned that the case seemed to have been built on pointing fingers and hear say. Not proved beyond a doubt and he was appalled how the system allowed that now a days. 

 

~•§•~

 

With the added information, Roger dug further into the case. Using the wife angle, he found grounds for Putney and Mrs. Astin wanting to milk what little the theatre made and blame it on Skylar with double book keeping. Skylar knew about one account but the money was withdrawn from another with an account number so similar it would be easy to make the mistake and deposit money to the fake account. It was confusing how the money was moved from one account to the other and it looked like Skylar did it - because he actually did. 

Damn that one was difficult to prove; that Putney was guilty because it was disguised so cleverly.

Skylar had no motive, but Putney had. Also, Roger was going to prove to the court that Putney and Mrs. Astin had been having an affair long before Skylar was invited to join them. 

For that, he needed Bryan who had no qualms asking around people who knew Putney and Mrs. Astin in the past. Yes, his dear brother had no clue how well some of their former servants continued to make a living after they were released from their household.

The quickly gathered evidence Roger had at his disposal was presented only three weeks after Skylar had entered their home. A reopening of the case was soon granted, but they had to wait a month before the court could squeeze in another trial of that calibre.

Roger kept his knowledge low key not to stress Skylar who was fretting enough trying to adjust to his new life. In the meantime, Sebastian’s contract would run out soon. It was time for Aaron to get to the Magistrate and purchase a new George.

 

~•§•~

 

“Good morning,” Aaron greeted Skylar and Roger. “George,” he said with a wry smile at Sebastian who came forward and filled his tea cup.

“Good morning, Mr. Tveit.”

“Last day Monday,” Aaron said superfluously.

“Yes.”

“Any plans? Other than getting your car back?” Roger said and leered at Aaron.

“No, sir,” Sebastian replied.

“Found any promising servants yet?” Roger asked Aaron.

Aaron looked at him and shrugged. He hadn’t been looking and blamed it on work. “I don’t know. Maybe we can do without for a while. Maybe get an actual housekeeper.”

“Well, I’m not vacuuming, brother dear,” Roger immediately said and snorted.

“I can do that,” Skylar said.

“Oh. How refreshing,” Roger agreed too willingly.

“I really wouldn’t mind,” Skylar said.

“No. That’s not why you were hired. We’ll think of something,” Aaron said.

“I could stay for a while...” Sebastian suddenly offered.

Aaron smiled. “Thanks, but you need to get back to your own life. This is a stagnating position. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be all right. I’ll write you a recommendation.”

Sebastian smiled.

“Wow...” Roger chuckled and flashed his teeth at Aaron. “They really love you, don’t they?”

“Bugger off,” Aaron said, annoyed at Roger relentlessly pushing his buttons. Getting up, he went to the breakfast buffet and put some treats on his plate. Returning to the table, he sat down and cast a quick look at Skylar, who seemed less introverted now.

“So... any progress?”

“With the case?” Roger asked.

“Yes. Anything,” Aaron replied.

“Not in front of the children,” Roger joked, but continued because Aaron’s predictable eye roll came promptly after. “Well, I have nothing to add concerning Skylar’s case since we’ve been squeezed in on Friday, and I’ve accepted to represent ‘A-Band-Men’ versus their scum of a manager.”

“What’s that all about?” Aaron wasn’t really interested, because it sounded like hundreds of boy band related cases Roger had already had throughout his career.

“Can’t discuss that in present company,” Roger said.

“All right,” Aaron said and jammed up his roll in raspberry flavour. After a bite that was followed by closed eyes for a moment, he said, “We’re soon done producing season two of my TV-show. I have no decisive plans thereafter, except some writing. I had hoped you could assist me, Skylar.” Aaron stopped to look at the man. “But now that the new trial is already coming...” He pointed at Roger whilst looking at Sebastian who came over immediately and poured his twin a cup of Earl Grey tea.

“I can help,” Skylar immediately assured him. “Anything to take my mind off it.”

“Fine,” Aaron said. That wasn’t bad at all. Finally, Skylar was ready to do what Aaron had wanted him to all along. “No more file sorting for you. Work out some plots for me instead. I need a new show.”

“Thanks...” Skylar said grateful. “But I can still help out in the house.”

“It’s not...”

“Let him if he wants to, Aaron. He is a servant after all,” Roger interrupted annoyed.

Both Skylar and Aaron looked at him with open mouths and huge eyes.

“What?” Roger asked lifting his hands and shoulders in question.

 

~•§•~

 

The case of ‘Astin against Putney’ was scheduled as planned and Roger had been looking forward to the trial all week, expecting it to be done with quickly.

Today was the day: Friday, May the 2nd.

Out of his eyes, Roger saw Aaron sneak into court and find a back seat. His twin was going to testify. Putney’s party had summoned him as a witness. Roger certainly hadn’t.

“Look at all the fucks I don’t give,” Roger said when his attention was back on Putney’s lawyer Mr. Harold Grove.

“Mr. Tveit. If you can’t control yourself, you will be held for contempt and disruption of order!” Judge Deed boomed, but Aaron could tell he was secretly amused.

Putney smiled meaningfully and leaned back in his seat, happy the way Roger was responding to the taunt he’d been feeding him the last ten minutes.

“When exactly did your affair with Mrs. Astin begin?” Roger asked.

Defensively, Putney crossed his arms over his chest and the self-satisfied smirk disappeared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You promised us you’d tell the truth. Didn’t he, Your Honour?” Roger said and approached Judge Deed.

“I’m warning you, Roger,” Deed admonished him whilst holding his hand over the microphone.

Rubbing the compulsory woollen wig a few times across his head, Roger satisfied the itch that had annoyed him for a few moments. “I have a few photos you might want to look at if that can jump start your memory,” Roger said as he turned away with a big smile. Then he continued, “Didn’t Mrs. Astin and you think it was a great idea to have two slightly similar looking accounts, making Mr. Astin trust he put his money in his own but in reality, he put them into yours because he couldn’t tell the difference?”

Mr. Grove stood up, “Mr. Putney can’t possibly know what Mrs. Astin is thinking...”

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Deed overruled. “The topic is the reason for this trial.”

Mr. Putney moved uneasily in his chair, lifted his knobby chin in defiance and said, “No. We did not.”

“We?” Roger said with a brilliant smile blossoming across his handsome face, and the colour drained from Putney’s face. “So... there is a ‘we’?”

Putney’s eyes drifted to a place Roger knew was where ones brain stored memories, and then they continued to where the brain went to fabricate information. Roger was prepared for the lie Putney was going to submit.

“The truth... if you please,” Roger interrupted him to remind him and to muddle the lying thoughts he probably hadn’t constructed well yet. 

Putney gritted his teeth and then almost barked, “We... we were business partners.”

“According to my papers, you’re still business partners... in fact... you’ve shared the same address since Mrs. Astin divorced her husband recently.”

“We’ve become close... since... the trial,” Putney stumbled out his sentence.

“Is there something you’d like to add now that you have the opportunity, Mr. Putney?”

“I couldn’t possibly know what that would be?”

Roger smiled. “Because you can’t remember what we just talked about?” he goaded the man.

“Harassment of the accused!” Putney’s lawyer Mr. Grove protested.

Judge Deed raised an eyebrow. “I’ll allow it.”

“I’ve spoken to a friend of the two of you, a Miss Hilk...” Roger smiled when Mr. Grove began riffling through his papers. 

Roger looked at Putney who moved uneasily again. “She has been asked to testify if we deem it necessary. In the mean time...” Roger adjusted his immaculate cravat and picked up a document. “As shown previously, there are copies of the two accounts. And when compared to the invoices, ticket sales, the otherwise neat bookkeeping, this proves...” Roger went to address Mr. Putney. “...that Mr. Astin put your combined profit on both accounts. Accounts you went to the bank and opened yourself. The real one and the fake one. You went through the books a few times during the month. Sharing the same account, you made sure that Mr. Astin saw both accounts but he couldn’t tell the difference because the name of the account was altered by... a dash! Money on the fake account was always moved to _your_ account by the end of the month and Mr. Astin never knew the difference. He never knew there were two accounts.

‘Mr. Astin would put money on your combined account. You, Mr. Putney, would use his signature to withdraw amounts of money and put on another account with an almost similar name. An account that you, Mr. Putney, and... how about that?... also Mrs. Astin had access to. Just a dash between the numbers and Mr. Astin wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“So we were supposed to get a copy of both accounts, but sadly Mr. Grove has no recollection of there being so. It’s so sad when one’s client doesn’t deliver all the information needed to make sure there are no surprises in court. Because... Mr. Putney... that makes your case weaker,” Roger said and approached Mr. Putney again.

“Objection! Argumenting!” Mr. Grove said barely having time to look up from a frantic search through his papers.

“Was there a question in there, Mr. Tveit?” Judge Deed asked Roger.

Roger shrugged and looked at a frustrated Mr. Grove. “No. I suppose not. I have no further questions at this point.”

Putney couldn’t even hide how relieved he was.

“Your witness, Mr. Grove,” the judge said.

Roger wasn’t even sure he’d accomplished anything yet. Re-counting events already stated in the first trial didn’t prove Skylar had no clue about the two accounts. Could he really have been so trusting? So dense? Could he honestly have been that much in love with Mrs. Astin? The woman had testified earlier this morning, and she had been smooth like an eel. She claimed the divorce was built on fear for her future, since Skylar had been sentenced for so many years. She needed the safety and found it in moving in with her dear friend Mr. Putney.

Even the jury couldn’t hide a discreet coughing hearing about that. However, it was no crime. And though Roger had procured pictures of the two, he hadn’t managed to prove she had been involved in framing Skylar.

“Didn’t Mr. Astin get an offer he couldn’t refuse?” Mr. Grove suddenly asked Mr. Putney. “An attempt to buy you out of business?”

Mr. Putney nodded. “Yeah, yeah. That’s right. I believe it was the prosecutor’s brother.” Mr. Putney pointed eagerly at Roger.

Roger startled. Of course, he didn’t know why Mr. Grove wanted Aaron to witness other than his brother’s romantic attempt to save the damsel who wasn’t in distress. He was going to now.

“Is this true, Mr. Tveit?” Judge Deed asked Roger who slowly nodded.

“Can I approach the bench, your honour?”

“Of course.”

“What’s going on?”

The judge half smiled. “It seems Mr. Grove has added a new pawn.” Casting a glance at Aaron who still sat in the back, the judge added quietly, “Make sure your brother is available. It’s probably going to be ugly.”

Roger frowned surprised. “You know something I don’t?”

“Just be prepared,” was all the judge would say.

“Thank you, Your Honour.” Roger looked at Aaron, too, and his brother sent him a questioning look back. Shrugging, Roger indicated he had no clue.

“Right,” Mr. Grove said, eyeing Roger. “That would be all for now, Mr. Putney.” The accused stepped down and found his place. 

“You next witness, Mr. Grove,” Judge Deed said.

“Thank you, Your Honour. I call Aaron Tveit to the stand.”

Roger looked straight in front of him. “Any documents you think I should have a copy of, Mr. Grove?” 

“I only just learned about this a few minutes ago,” the man replied smoothly.

Roger got up. “Is this pay back?”

“In my chambers, Gentlemen. Mr. Tveit?” Judge Deed pointed at Aaron who was already half way to the witness stand. “Take a break. And do not leave the building.”

Aaron just nodded and went back to his seat.

Roger sent him an apologetic smile before he disappeared into the Judge’s chambers with Mr. Grove.

“What is this, Harold? If you have new substantial evidence, you’re breaching the law by withholding them from Roger,” Judge Deed said.

Mr. Grove looked like he’d won the lottery. “It’s an invoice that proves Mr. Tveit paid Mr. Astin money.”

“What?!” Roger shouted. The paper Mr. Grove put in front of him was a copy of a check signed by Aaron to Skylar’s theatre.

“It’s addressed to the theatre. It could have been to Mr. Putney as well,” Roger said hotly.

“But Mr. Astin cashed in the cheque.”

“And? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means that Mr. Tveit – your brother - was in on the fraud as well.”

Roger just stared at Mr. Grove as if he’d grown horns.

“Yes. Your brother is part of the fraud. Didn't see that one coming, did ya?” Mr. Grove almost pranced.

The judge looked at both barristers and said, “This is a serious charge. Do you intend to carry on with these allegations, Harold?”

“Oh, yes. I most certainly do.” Mr. Grove left the office.

“You didn’t know about this?” Judge Deed asked Roger.

“No,” Roger whispered. “I had no idea he’d literally tried to pay Mr. Astin even if the man claimed he didn’t want Aaron’s money.”

“Seems like he did after all.”

“How can you know? Nobody will be able to remember who cashed in the cheque.”

The judge cast a glance at the signature. “Mr. Astin did.”

“Gods...” Roger gasped realising the judge was right.

“And don’t forget that your brother leased Mr. Astin as soon as he was available for auction. The jury will find that coincidence... motivating.”

Roger didn’t know what to say. It didn’t look good.

“It’s unfortunately suspect and Harold will not hesitate to exploit that.”

Roger felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, and he was still gasping from the brain freeze.

“Let’s go back to the court room, shall we?”

Roger really didn’t want to. But he had to for Aaron’s sake.

 

~•§•~

 

It was just like in bad TV-shows. The second Judge Deed regrettably agreed with the jury that Aaron had been a bystander knowingly letting poor Putney take the blame by putting money on the fake account. As a result, Aaron was grabbed by the usher and taken away. 

There had been nothing Roger could do to reverse the sickening truth that Aaron foolishly had paid the theatre behind Roger’s back.

 

~•§•~

 

Watching it happen, was like a kick to the teeth for Roger. Aaron’s panic-stricken face was the last he saw before he realised it actually had happened. Aaron was ripped away from him. Sentenced a level six Community Service for financial fraud.

Slowly, he turned and looked at Mr. Grove who was in a hurry to get out of the court.

“You fucking backstabbing arsehole!” Roger’s eyes filmed over and he was seconds from attacking the man, when Judge Deed himself came down and put a hand on his shoulder. Roger wrestled his arm free and felt his knees going useless. Using the edge of the table, he managed to sit down on the stool instead of the floor. Pulling off the woollen wig, he let it drop on top of the neat stack of papers on his table. Then he got up again and started pacing the floor in a wild attempt to try and collect his thoughts. He couldn’t believe this was really happening and there were no pleads in this sort of ruling. “This is bullshit, John.”

“Calm down, Roger,” the judge warned him. “Focus your energy on getting your brother before someone else does.” 

Roger looked at him, but couldn’t really understand what the judge was saying. 

“Lease your brother before someone else does. That’s the only reason I sentenced him so high, Roger. With good behaviour, he’ll stand a good chance of lowering his level. Just _work_ the system. I know you can do that. If anyone questions why he’s leased to someone in his own household, I’ll rule for you. Do you understand?” Judge Deed asked to make sure Roger was actually hearing what he said.

Roger slowly nodded along with the judge. “Thanks... I guess,” he finally said. “Did you really think him guilty? Really?”

“The evidence was unfortunately not in his favour.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“That’s my answer, councillor.”

“Most of it was hear say!”

Judge Deed shook his head. “No, Roger. It wasn’t.”

“I caused this...” Roger muttered. “By bringing up the case again. All Aaron did was trying to help Astin.”

“You weren’t in the room when Astin and your brother had their conversation. You have no idea if they spoke later on, even if Aaron denied it under oath. All you know is that Astin has remained guilty of his crime and now your brother is convicted, too. Ultimately, Harold was just doing his job.” The judge cuffed Roger’s shoulder in silent comfort before he left him alone.

Confused, Roger stared in front of him long after everyone else had left the court.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tveit. We have to prepare for next case,” someone said.

Looking dully at the usher, Roger felt nauseous. Next case. The court was so busy, and Roger hated the fact that people just wasn’t behaving sensibly in spite of it to avoid these sentences. They never fucking learned.

Getting up, he briskly left the courthouse. Luckily, there were no photographers outside, because it wasn’t a high profile case attracting media focus. The situation would probably be different in twenty four hours.

The Magistrate was closed for the weekend. Aaron would have to spend three nights in jail there. Even Roger’s connections couldn’t prevent that. He wouldn’t be able to do anything until Monday when the Magistrate opened for business again.

 

~•§•~


	4. Chapter 4

~•§•~

 

“Mr. Tveit?”

“Roger?” Aaron said with a confused snuffle. Then he opened his eyes and, recognising the cell, he remembered what had happened all over again. “Oh, my god,” he whispered. He was still imprisoned. “So this is what it feels like,” he said, thinking about the string of servants in his care who’d endured the same feelings he was going through. He sincerely hoped he’d made their transition back to society as good as possible because he had no idea how his own was going to be like.

Even on the third morning, the fourth day, Aaron still felt like he was in shock. The people handling him after he was taken away Friday had acted professionally around him. Used to all kinds of people ending up in the Magistrate auction house, they weren’t particular sympathetic either. Hell, perhaps even the King Charles could end up here, and he wouldn’t be treated any differently. Aaron, too, had to endure the embarrassing personal measurements and intimate interview about his health for his auction profile like Skylar and everybody else sentenced had before him. Aaron had gotten regular meals but was checked up upon occasionally during the weekend. Due to little or no regard to his diary intolerance the food gave him an upset stomach. Mostly, though, he sat on his bunk looking at nothing in particular fretting about what had happened and the grotesqueness of his sudden situation.

The daunting fact he was even in the same building where he’d managed his own business transactions so often hadn’t manifested itself yet. Everything felt like a dream. One second he was just testifying, trying to turn Skylar’s misfortune. And the next he was found guilty of participating in his servant’s misconduct. It was outrageous. So what if he’d donated a cheque a few months ago? How could that be illegal? Well, apparently it was if the cheque found a new home into suspect accounts that Aaron had no knowledge of alongside with his offer to collaborate management of the theatre. 

Together these ‘facts’ had suddenly proved to be suspicious. Skylar hadn’t even been asked to testify, because the defence suddenly had every document needed to prove their preposterous allegations. Aaron never got a chance to talk to Roger, because even though Roger was Aaron’s lawyer, his brother was denied to represent him due to impartial issues. Aaron recalled his brother’s face when he, too, realised what the verdict was going to do to them. He could almost feel it when Roger’s heart broke.

Looking out at the guard who slowly passed the open cell, Aaron noticed the man barely looked at him. He was just a number. Aaron was held in by electric bars. He could hear the quiet hum from the installation if he paid attention to it.

It was still early in the morning and there were a couple of hours before he was forced to get out of bed. Restless, he lay down on the bench and tried to sleep again. Even after a few nights like this, it hadn’t become easier. The scene continued to play in his head. What if’s and what not’s filled his spinning mind with crazy thoughts until he eventually slipped back into sleep. Exhausted, frightened, and aching violently to speak to Roger.

“Get ready in ten minutes. Breakkie waits for no one,” the guard said waking him up. Aaron opened his eyes and saw the man standing there looking at him for a few moments. Had he really managed to sleep again? When the guard had passed, Aaron stood up unhurriedly. He went behind the screen where the built in stainless steel toilet was available. After he’d flushed, he washed his hands and saw his reflexion in a break safe mirror above the washbasin.

Filling his hands with water, he tried to freshen up a bit. He looked haunted as if he hadn’t slept all night. Like the other nights, he’d awoken a few times, but exhaustion had sent him right back to sleep. He didn’t feel rested at all. His gut clenched again. He was so nervous and confused why it all happened. He didn’t even have the opportunity to call Roger to help with anything, because he’d already been sentenced. And community service! Someone was going to buy his service for six fucking years. 

Automatically, Aaron dressed in the red prison bottoms and white t-shirt he was handed Friday after his own clothes were taken from him. On his feet, he wore a kind of Chinese cloth slippers; all materials that he couldn’t hurt himself with if he was in that state of mind.

The guard showed up again carrying a tray. “Oh, and you’re up for auction afterwards,” he smirked. “So you can dress in your own clothes instead. Requesting entry! Cell 02,” the guard said into his intercom. When the beams had shut down, he sent the tray across the electric barrier for Aaron to pick up. A plastic box containing the suit he wore Friday followed the tray.

“Already?” he asked numb.

“Yeah, sorry, mate,” the guard said. “Someone obviously wants you that badly.” The beams were turned back on.

 _Roger_.

“Is it my brother?” Aaron couldn’t help asking, regretting it the next second.

The guard chuckled. “Your brother? The hot shot lawyer? Who knows who showed up first today to lease your sorry arse.”

Aaron looked away. “Forget I asked.”

“Already forgotten, mate. I mean. You’re a level six, right? It could be anybody who wants a cheap find. You know how it is.”

Aaron looked at him and scoffed quietly. What a conceited bitter person. “Are you by any chance here because you’re serving a community service sentence yourself?”

The guard’s face turned sour. “None of your fucking business.”

Aaron had nothing else to say. He didn’t want any trouble and his stomach continued to hurt from tensing in fear for what was to come. He envisioned how he used to lease servants before they even went on auction. How much was he worth? Would he even be considered dangerous? That meant hand cuffs. Aaron shuddered and decided to skip the food. Though his condition was mentioned in his interview, there was no guarantee he’d get the right food. He just hoped it wouldn’t be an issue with his leaser.

Remembering to put on his own clothes, he pulled off the prison garments again and redressed. He cast the food tray one last glance but by now, he couldn’t eat even if he wanted to. 

“It’s time,” the guard said some time later, and the electric beams to Aaron’s cell were turned off once more. Electric cuffs were indeed put on his wrists, just as they had after the sentence. 

“Wait here.” The guard pointed at a chair when they came to the corridor, where Aaron himself had picked up his servants. Dutifully, Aaron sat down. His mind was running a thousand kilometres an hour, but there were no substantial thoughts. Just fear of the unknown.

Suddenly, the door at the end of the corridor opened, and none other than Roger barged through determinedly steering toward Aaron. 

He couldn’t believe his eyes. The feeling of sheer elation mixed with an adrenaline shock was indescribable.

“Fuck! AARON!” Roger called.

“Oh, my god, Roger!!” Aaron cried out with such relief he sagged in Roger’s arms when his twin reached him. “Oh, Roger.” Aaron felt Roger pulling him back up, petting his hair and hugging him fiercely.

“Is there anything you can do? I wasn’t allowed to call you,” Aaron asked, tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was shaking violently. Roger just hugged him tighter.

“Uncuff him,” Roger told the guard, as he thrust some papers at the man to have a glimpse at. Knowing what to look for in these documents, the man went and removed the cuffs. Obviously a little worried about his taunting earlier, he quickly left them alone.

“What happened?” Aaron asked confused. “Was there a misunderstanding? Is there a...”

“No. The sentence still stands.”

“But...”

“I bought your lease.”

Aaron cocked his head. “You...?” The shock he endured now was too much, and Roger had to grab him again, or Aaron would have fainted. 

Roger held him tightly, but then let go and his hands quickly ran over Aaron in a blind search for any damage. “Are you all right? Did they treat you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Just shook up pretty badly.”

“Of course.” Roger hugged him again and they stood for a while just holding each other. “Fuck. These have been the worst nights of my life,” Roger said and finally took Aaron’s face between his hands and stared into his eyes. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Was the worst of my life, too, if you disregard mum and dad’s passing.”

“Fuck. I was so worried. Couldn’t think of anything but you, darling,” Roger cooed. “It’s gonna be all right. We were worried there’d be a ruling against family leasing a sentenced, but there were no issues.”

“Who are we?” Aaron asked and loosened the distance between them.

“Well, Judge Deed.”

Aaron nodded and gradually he began to understand what was happening. “You bought the lease?”

“You’re going home, Aaron.”

“But you bought the lease. You _own_ me, Roger,” Aaron said. 

Roger looked away and nodded. “I know. But better me than some stranger, right? I didn't want you ending up in the hands of some fucking stranger, Aaron!” He pointed at no one in particular to stress his words.

Aaron nodded. “Calm down. Of course, I wouldn’t want that either.”

“Good. Because for a second that’s exactly what it sounded like.”

Aaron rubbed his hand across his mouth and chin. This was a whole new kind of stress. Nevertheless, he slipped back into Roger’s arms. “Sorry. I’m not ungrateful, Roger. Of course I’m not.” Aaron didn’t feel like dealing with this attitude from his twin right now. “I just need to understand a few things. You picking me up just threw me. It changes things.”

“It changes everything. Let’s get home, then. It’s been a long fucking weekend. Luckily, there is no press outside, so we can leave without me having to mow anyone down with the car.”

Roger put an arm around Aaron’s shoulders and he let him lead him to the car park in the basement. 

 

~•§•~

 

Entering his own home, Aaron watched how Roger had to change his status in the security system from being an actual owner and into a sentenced person with no access code to come and enter as he used to.

“Do I need to push #-tag, too?” Roger asked even though he knew perfectly well how to work the alarm.

Aaron nodded. “Yes - after the two zeros,” he explained just as superfluously and pointed at the security display.

“You’re cleared now.” 

“Then what?”

“I’ll... introduce you to the staff.”

“What?” Aaron said incredulous.

Roger coughed uncomfortably. “Please, Aaron. Don’t make this difficult.”

“Make what difficult? They’re my staff, too, right?”

“Uhm... Can we just... are you hungry?”

Aaron reeled. “There is something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

“Aaron, I bloody well just can’t let you return home like nothing has happened. There are certain things even you have to do. You have to serve a sentence, or otherwise Judge Deed will revoke the lease.”

“You’re... You dragged me into this, Roger!” Aaron blurted.

“You didn’t stop me from taking up the case again!” Roger responded and grabbed Aaron’s hand. Counting inwardly a few paces, he then said, “Come. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Instinctively, Aaron tried to slip out of Roger’s grip, but his twin was just as strong as Aaron was. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

Roger stopped and turned to look at Aaron. He acknowledged the actual terror in his eyes. “Jesus, Aaron. Just to your fucking room. We can delay the dungeon introduction until tomorrow.” Aaron was still staring at him and Roger realised his brother was afraid of him. 

He let go of Aaron’s hand and instead neared him to test how close he would be allowed before Aaron reacted. “I’m not going to hurt you, darling,” Roger said in a soft tone of voice.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed in distrust. “You’ve already hurt me, _darling_.”

Roger looked away. That one stung because he could compartmentalise this. See it from many points of view. Yes, technically, he had hurt Aaron simply by trying to help Skylar and it had backfired grotesquely. They had not seen Aaron’s participation as illegal coming. They had not seen his sentence coming either, or Roger would have sold Skylar’s lease to someone else without blinking. Aaron had done this to himself, because Defence had managed to maintain Putney’s innocence by digging up Aaron’s guilt out of nowhere and piling it on top of Skylar’s. Still, Roger should have seen all this; should have known Aaron couldn’t resist helping out behind his back. Roger worked these kinds of cases for a fucking living and was still blindsided wanting to please Aaron in his noble crusade to rescue poor, little, innocent Skylar.

He felt rage build up under his skin. His pulse began speeding, and he had to count again to stop himself from finding the little cunt and break his fucking neck. 

“Calm down,” Aaron said and Roger felt his hands on his cheeks. Relieved Roger dropped his forehead against Aaron’s and only then did he feel his strength crumble.

 

~•§•~ 

 

“Aaron?” 

Aaron opened his eyes. Disorientated, he thought he was still in the Magistrate’s auction house. Then he realised he was at home in his own bed. He was groggy but just from sleeping so heavily. His nose picked up the faint fragrance of Roger’s aftershave, and he smiled when he saw him. Perhaps it had all been a horrible dream. It seemed so far away.

Roger was squatting in front of his bed, head resting on his arms. His brother reached out and fondly pushed Aaron’s fringe out of his eyes.

“I don't want you to cut your hair,” Roger said.

“Fine,” Aaron said and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep some more, but Roger pushed at him and got under his duvet. “Rogerrrr,” Aaron complained but he didn't mind and turned to face his twin. Roger’s top arm snuck around him, pressing against his shoulder blade, and Aaron sighed by the comforting familiarity. When Roger pushed a knee between Aaron’s thighs, he accommodated him. He always accommodated Roger when he wanted to get as close as possible. What he didn't understand was how Roger found that relaxing.

Leisurely he returned to that perfect stage between sleep and awake. It was warm and safe under his duvet with Roger in his arms, his soothing smell with every inhale.

Soon his conscious started digging, reminding him that something didn't add up. With a start Aaron opened his eyes in alarm. Roger was still there but...

“Roger?” he said and waited for his brother to respond. 

“What?” Roger responded, pushing his face further into Aaron’s neck as he tightened his grip around his shoulder blade. 

“ _Roger?_ ” Aaron asked again more determinedly.

“What?” Roger asked and moved his head to be able to look at Aaron.

“What happened?” He needed help to separate dreams from reality. He needed to hear it from Roger.

Roger smiled and nodded. Aaron didn’t need to ask exactly what he meant. “Well, following our little break down after I got you home, you went to bed and slept.”

“How long was I asleep?” Aaron couldn’t recall going to bed.

For a long while, Roger looked at him and his fingers found their way to Aaron’s hair. “Since yesterday morning.”

“But I’d just gotten out of bed at the Magistrate.”

“You were pretty out of it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Now Aaron remembered the important little detail he’d forgotten. Roger had bought his lease. “Because you own me.”

“Yes,” Roger confirmed and continued to toy with Aaron’s hair. 

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be Aaron.”

“Just Aaron?”

“You can continue to do your job if you’d like, but from here. You were fired from BBC.”

“Thanks, Roger.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What exactly would I have to do now that I’m declared incapable of managing my own affairs?” Aaron looked into Roger’s calm eyes, certain his own were filled with indignant anger. “You’re my guardian, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me what your plans are, Roger?”

“You could go back to singing?” Roger suggested, “Acting?”

“Who would hire me?”

“We’ll find someone.”

“We?”

“Don't fight me on this, Aaron.”

Aaron’s eyes started burning with indignant tears of the injustice of it all. “I could just throw up. And you’re so fucking calm about everything!”

“I’ve had a few days to think it over.”

“But you _own_ me, Roger!”

“I’m _leasing_ you. It’s just a fucking piece of paper, Aaron!” Roger said and manoeuvred them so he lay on top of Aaron, balancing his weight on his underarms.

Aaron didn’t fight him. He looked past Roger trying to gather his thoughts. “How is Skylar doing? Is he still alive?” he asked.

“Barely,” Roger replied with obvious distaste.

“How is he?”

“He and George are doing fine. It’s not as if I’m checking up on them. They’re doing their thing as usual.”

“George? Do we still have a George?” Aaron asked confused. Sebastian should have been gone ages ago by now.

Roger shrugged as well as he could.

“Who is George, Roger? Did you buy another servant lease?”

“No...” Roger said, not really admitting to anything yet. “Maybe I actually hired someone without leasing.”

“Who?”

“You remember Bryan, right?”

“Of course, I remember Bryan. I’m just surprised you do.”

Roger cocked his head and tutted amused. “Well. Bryan is actually a pianist.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes. He’d forgotten that, but now that he recalled Bryan, he remembered that their former servant had in fact been a successful pianist both on Broadway but also West End in London. His crime deluded him at the moment but that wasn’t really important. “Why have you employed him?”

“I might have had him employed for some time already doing some occasional field work for me. He hasn’t been able to get a job in the business after he was released. Somehow people haven’t forgotten he was sentenced.”

“How noble of you,” Aaron muttered.

“I’m glad you thought so.”

“Get off me. I need to piss.”

Pulling away, Roger let Aaron leave the bed. Aaron stretched and felt Roger’s eyes on him. Looking down, he noticed he was dressed in a soft t-shirt and boxer briefs. He couldn’t remember getting out of his suit.

“Did you drug me?”

“No. But you had the usual sleeping pill we always offer a new servant.”

“So you did drug me?”

“Aaron... You told me you hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours for an entire weekend. You were exhausted.”

“But you still drugged me?” Aaron insisted.

“Jesus... No...! We agreed you needed it. You needed to sleep to be able to face this.”

Aaron couldn't remember it, but there wasn’t much he could recall from the moment he realised he was going home with Roger and until now anyway. “There is no chance in hell I’ll get to produce for anybody any more. One doesn’t exactly exude trust if you’ve been sentenced for fraud. And what about Skylar? I don't really need him for what I bought his lease for anymore.”

“I don't give a fuck about how to fill Skylar’s days from now on! I do, however, give quite many fucks about what you’re going to do for the next many years, Aaron!” Roger spluttered.

Aaron closed his eyes. Right. Years. Not Months. Lifting a hand to placate further outbursts from his twin, Aaron left his bedroom to get some space in the bathroom. He did relieve his bladder but afterwards he spent some time looking in the mirror. He didn’t see anything different other than dark shadows under his eyes. Maybe he’d lost a couple of pounds along the way but other than that, he looked better than he had in the cell.

“All right?” he heard Roger ask from the other side.

“Fine. Just give me some time, Roger,” Aaron said and sat down on the toilet lid to collect his thoughts.

“Aaron?” Roger asked in a softer tone of voice.

“I’m fine, Roger. I just need to freshen up, all right?”

“You can’t...” Roger stopped and Aaron imagined him putting his palms against the door.

“Can’t what?”

“Lock the door... you can’t lock the door.”

Aaron looked up and noticed that the key was missing. “...wow...” he said under his breath. “Did you think I would hurt myself?”

“No. You’re just not allowed the privilege.”

Leaning back, Aaron rested his head against the cool tiles behind him. It was true. Leased servants weren’t even allowed that. “You’re thorough, councillor,” he said. “Bryan has better conditions than me. Your brother.”

Roger pressed the handle and opened the door slightly ajar. “You can earn those privileges.”

“So you can report back to the Magistrate and Deed that I’ve been a good boy?” Aaron said tonelessly.

“I want your sentence reduced as fast as I can work the system, Aaron.”

Aaron turned his head and looked at Roger sharply. Somehow he’d managed to forget what Roger did for a living. “You bought me.”

“Yes. How in this universe would I not? I love you more than I can even express!” Roger said passionately, stepped into the room, and dropped on his knees in front of Aaron. “I’d rather offer up myself for service than let anyone get their paws on you.”

Aaron loved Roger back with same measure. And he would never have allowed Roger to sell himself to save Aaron so they were both equally stupid. “I’m sorry I blew up on you. I am so fucking grateful you were quick.”

“Deed was quick. I was in shock,” Roger clarified looking up at Aaron, showing his raw and vulnerable feelings. “I love you, Aaron,” he said looking so unwaveringly at Aaron that he wondered if Roger was searching for something in his eyes.

Moving forward, Aaron squatted and welcomed Roger’s embrace. Roger’s arms wound around him tightly, and they sat like that for so long that they were interrupted by a subtle knock on the bedroom door.

“Shite. It’s probably your precious Skylar,” Roger muttered. He let go of Aaron and quickly checked his face in the mirror. “See you downstairs when you’re ready.” Then Roger left him.

Aaron didn't say anything. He was still squatting on the hard tile floor. Getting up, he used the washbasin for support. This was the first day of the rest of his life, and he lived with these people in this house. Sentenced or not. 

 

~•§•~

 

When he got downstairs, he went to the dining room. He hadn’t been able to find his phone, so he gathered Roger had confiscated it. He’d opted out of putting on his usual business suit, but instead picked a short sleeved marine button down shirt with a vague floral design and blue jeans. It was a becoming combination but also startlingly not what Aaron was supposed to look like.

Roger stood resting against the antique sideboard that served to put their buffet on top of. His ankles were crossed as he’d obviously waited for Aaron to show up. Skylar and Bryan sat quietly at the breakfast table staring at the food Bryan had prepared. The atmosphere was oppressive. The next half hour was just something everyone had to get through.

“Hello, Aaron,” Bryan said and waved awkwardly. Skylar just looked at him.

“Good morning Skylar, and... Bryan?” Aaron responded and sent Roger a quick glance to ensure how his brother felt about the old ‘George’.

Roger shrugged. “I think we’ve buried George for now.”

“Thank god for that,” Aaron muttered and went to the buffet. Again, he cast a glance at Roger who rolled his eyes.

“Yes, darling. You’re allowed to take food from the fucking buffet.”

“Cheers, Roger. Just checking with the head of the house,” Aaron said sarcastically.

Roger walked to stand next to him and grabbed his upper arm in his fist. “If you keep it up the insolence, I will have to punish you,” he whispered in Aaron’s ear. Aaron’s eyelids fluttered and he was rewarded with a humorous exhale from his brother. Irritated, he tried to shrug off Roger’s hand.

“Oh, don't make me special, Mr. Tveit,” Aaron said. 

Scoffing, Roger let go of him and went to sit by the table. “Tell Aaron what you’ve been doing since Friday, Skylar.”

Clearing his voice, Skylar sat up straighter. “I’ve been doing some gardening with Bryan.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s fine. We...” Skylar halted.

“Go on,” Roger said.

“We made a strategy and have free hands to design the garden how we wish.”

“Oh,” Aaron said. “I don't care.”

“Oh...” Skylar said.

“I didn’t mean that, Skylar. I was talking to my brother. I think it’s nice you have something to do now that my plans unfortunately cannot be brought to fruition.” Aaron felt bad. Skylar and Bryan weren’t at fault here really. It was the system that Aaron had believed in until Friday that made his world disintegrate. He even tried hard not to blame Roger because his brother had had his feet swept away, too. They were still staggering from the shock. He just felt that Roger perhaps took a little more advantage of this than he should. But then again, he was entitled. Aaron was his servant. He was also his fucking twin, and it would take some time for Aaron to swallow that one and not let rage take over again.

“Who says your plans can’t happen?” Roger said and dug into non-diary approved pancakes that apparently had been added to their breakfast buffet.

Bryan chuckled quietly.

Aaron looked at him and smiled when the moment seemed to stretch.

“Music, Aaron. We’re going to make music,” Bryan said.

“I just got home, Bryan,” Aaron said.

“In due time of course, Aaron,” Bryan said. “Not right away.”

“And you’ve got a whole concept prepared?”

“No. I’ve been applying for futile jobs ever since my sentence was up.”

Nodding in understanding, Aaron reached for the tea pot that was now present on the table instead of being operated by an omnipresent George when needed. “I take it Sebastian was sent off properly?”

“You probably recall that he wasn’t really keen on it, but I wanted... no _needed_ Bryan,” Roger said. “So I sent him off with a cab yesterday with a ‘not to be returned’ note glued to his forehead.”

Aaron looked at Bryan again. Bryan’s gaze was calm and revealed nothing. Aaron didn’t like the feeling in his stomach right now. It didn’t sit well with the mood he was in already that Roger thought he could decide what Aaron was going to do with his life now. 

“Do you sing, Skylar?” Roger asked. “I have to be honest. In spite of having investigated your case for the trial, I hadn’t paid attention to your actual résumé. So... any musical talent in that puny chest of yours?”

“Why are you so fucking passive aggressive, Roger?” Aaron finally exploded and stood up. Roger got on his feet as well. “Are you so desperate to get a rise out of me?”

“Take it outside, boys,” Bryan suggested and shook his newspaper. “...And you’d better shoot blanks.”

“...pew pew...” Skylar said, but regretted the second after and looked at the suddenly interesting ceiling.

Aaron was thrown by it. Such casual familiarity from these people of which Bryan wasn’t even being leased for his services in this very house. The new infrastructure conducted by Roger was dizzying.

Roger grabbed Aaron’s hand and he was pulled out of the dining room. Pushing him against the nearest wall, Roger bracketed Aaron with his arms. Their bodies were flush against each other. Aaron sighed heavily through his nose, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes.

“How do you see us moving forward from this point, hm?” Roger asked.

Swallowing, Aaron shook his head. The lump in his throat had gathered out of nowhere in nanoseconds.

“Hey...” Roger said, his voice changed immediately. “Don't cry, darling. Baby, don't cry.” His bracketing arms softened and his hands framed Aaron’s face lovingly. Aaron closed his eyes and let himself be pulled into Roger’s arms, his own arms wrapped around his brother automatically.

“I need help. I need you to...” Aaron tried to say, literally feeling helpless.

“I’m here,” Roger said. “It’s going to be tough, but we’ll get you through this. We all just want to help.”

Aaron barked a laughter of surprise. Hugging Roger’s solid body harder felt good. “I feel like throttling you the most, but I love you too much,” he said.

“I love you, too, Aaron,” Roger said, and then they let go. Roger studied Aaron’s face a few moments. A hand slipped over Aaron’s hair. “You need a haircut,” he said and smiled.

Aaron lifted an eyebrow.

“Don’t you fucking dare cutting your hair,” Roger added and let go. 

“Did you call Jon?”

Roger held his breath. “No. I didn’t want to worry him.”

“He deserves to know before he hears it from someone else.”

“Obviously, but I think we can wait a few more days. He’ll just come running, and I don’t really want to deal with his well meaning advice.”

“Sure...” Aaron shrugged. He was their little brother, but yeah Jon had a tendency to try and figure out a spiritual solution when his older twin brothers couldn’t handle their own shit. Not exactly what they needed right now.

Aaron smiled. “What now?”

“Let’s hear what Bryan has to say, all right? Together we’re all smarter.”

“All right.” Aaron studied Roger a few more moments. “You _do_ remember that Skylar sang at the play we saw, right?”

“Did he?” Roger said, clearly pretending he had forgotten. “Well, that saves us singing lessons, doesn’t it?”

“Dimwit.”

“Wanker.” 

Chuckling, the twins returned to the others.

 

~•§•~


	5. Chapter 5

~•§•~

 

Nothing interesting happened the rest of that day. The awkwardness for Skylar and Bryan at having Aaron around like a servant, too, had resided. Aaron and Skylar had had a little talk after supper concerning that dastard cheque. Roger didn’t know what they said to each other because he’d been forbidden from the room. Of course he tried to tell them that they couldn’t be allowed that conversation without him supervising. Aaron called him out on his bull shit and threatened to strangle him in his sleep, if he continued to come up with house rules that hadn’t existed prior.

Literally miffed, Roger had to acknowledge that he was biased where his twin was concerned. However, they couldn’t forbid him to grab a chair and sit in front of the closed door. So that’s where Roger sat. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. And he waited; listening to their heated discussion that ended in a loud smack. Roger’s eyes bulged, shot out of the chair, and stepped up to the door. His hands were curled into fists. There were no more sounds and gritting his teeth, Roger reached out for the handle.

The door opened and Aaron looked at him. “Oh. It’s you.”

Roger looked him over. It was definitely Aaron who had gotten a slap on the face. Then Skylar showed up and snuck past Aaron, but Roger grabbed his arm. “Not so fast, pookie,” he said still looking at Aaron who cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” Aaron asked.

Roger looked Skylar over, too. He’d also gotten an unnatural cheek colour.

“Did you do simultaneously?”

Skylar did a strange roll with his shoulder that could mean anything. Letting go of the smaller man, Roger looked encouragingly at Aaron.

“Did you solve your differences?”

“No. But we’ll learn to live with them,” Aaron said. “And for god’s sake, Roger. Would you stop trying to stick your head up my arse all the time? You should get a hobby.” Aaron turned and walked backwards pointing both index fingers at Roger before he disappeared in the same direction as Skylar.

Roger scratched his neck. A hobby. Aaron was his fucking hobby - the rest of his time he had a job to do. And perhaps he should do just that when Aaron didn’t want to play.

Going downstairs, Roger went into the kitchen. Bryan was scrubbing down something, and Roger rested a hip against the island.

“How did it go?” Bryan asked with his usual smile.

“They won’t tell me.”

“Roger...” Bryan said and stopped scrubbing. “You need to get laid.”

“I know. I’ve ordered that grand piano you wanted, by the way. I suppose we’ll have to move your bed down to the garden to make space.”

Bryan’s mouth stood open as he stared at Roger.

“Don’t... hug me. Thank you will suffice,” Roger said, knowing it was a lost cause.

Indeed, Bryan ignored that and gave Roger a quick hug just the same. “Thank you, Mr. Tveit, my god.” Bryan winked.

Roger smirked. “Any cookies?”

“Do I look like a housekeeper to you?” 

“You will in the frilly apron from that BSDM home page I showed you.”

Bryan snorted. “Right. How could I forget? Speaking of the devil. There are some people still in favour.”

“Continue?” Roger said interested. Bryan had mentioned that earlier. Their plans to make music weren’t new. The trial just got in the way.

“Well, I checked around. And there is an audience who loves this kind of contact with sentenced show people.”

“It’s fucking annoying.”

“It is, but if one still wants to work in that line of business, one has to start over... from the bottom.”

“Like dirty night clubs?”

“Not nightclubs, Roger. Come on,” Bryan said. “But cheap theatres, yes. Maybe even...”

“Don’t say it,” Roger winced.

“Touring the outskirts with like... ten paying audiences because the rest expect freebies.”

“No, Bryan.”

“Don’t make that decision for them.”

“Skylar can do whatever the fuck he wants. He was so good at it when Aaron fell for him.”

Quickly, Bryan cast a glance towards the open door, but there was nobody. “Aaron fell for him?” he asked.

“Well, not literally. Just... unhealthily infatuated for a while. Like a crush or something. But actually, the show Skylar had going at the time was quite good. And he makes films. He could film the process.”

“And he sings...” Bryan reminded him.

“Yes, all right. He sings. He’s... better than all right.”

“Not as good as Aaron was, though?” Bryan said to tease Roger.

“No. Not as good as Aaron was, but then who is, right?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Bryan said. “Aaron needs to train his voice all over. You know that, right? It’s been a while. Even for him.”

Roger pointed at Bryan who lifted his scrubbing sponge in the air and said, “I’m on your team. Remember?” Then the pianist laughed.

How could they be so lucky to have a Bryan in the house? The sane man was kind of their glue at the moment. 

“Yeah, I remember,” Roger replied and looked at his watch. “I’m having a new client over for a meeting in less than an hour. Can’t sit around brooding when there is justice to be had. So, if anyone needs me I’m in the office.”

“Want something later?”

“Nah, I’ll get it myself.”

Bryan ignored that and handed him a thermos with tea.

Sighing happily, Roger grabbed it. He happened to want it anyway.

 

~•§•~

 

After his client left, Roger got on line, which resulted in Hamish calling. 

“What if I was in the middle of watching porn, Hamish?” Roger asked when his colleague answered.

The man chuckled, “Then I’d politely request you turn off the camera, Roger.”

Roger laughed. “What’s up?”

“We’re at the club... if you want to join us?”

“I most certainly do. I’ll be right over.”

He turned off the computer and ran his fingers through his hair a few times. Bryan had stuck his head in during the meeting to tell him that Aaron had gone to bed. Roger couldn’t blame his brother for turning in early. It must have been quite a first day for him. 

Checking he had keys, wallet, and phone, Roger left the house.

At the club, he quickly found the table his friends occupied. Hamish sat with someone else other than Catherine. Roger never believed he’d succeed in copping off with her no matter how meaningful the man had tried to come across since the last time they went out. Oh. That was back when Aaron had actually left the house to go out with Roger... _That_ night they saw Skylar’s play.

Sighing loudly, Roger slumped in the seat. He pulled off his thin jacket. It was hot tonight. There was already a cool pint in a condensed glass waiting for him – and some girl he’d never seen before.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully to Hamish who smiled and pointed. 

“That’s Mimi,” Catherine said. “She works for Larson & Greif.”

“Oh... hi,” Roger said and shook hands with a sultry brunette. She had that interested predatory look in her eye, which usually turned Roger on. Tonight, however, he was not here to cop off with a random girl. Sure, he could show her a good time depending on how the evening developed, but he detested being set up with a date he wasn’t asking for. “I’m Roger,” he said.

“Mimi,” she replied.

“So...” Roger said and looked at Hamish. “How long have you guys been here?”

“About an hour.”

“Great. I’m gonna go to the bar,” he said and got up.

Once Roger had squeezed in between some other people who just hung out, he waited patiently for the bartender to notice him. When Roger finally caught his attention, the man came over and leaned in to hear what Roger wanted.

“What’ll you have, lov’?”

Roger grinned brightly. How cute was that? The two men checked each other out which didn't take very long for either of them. “What do you think I deserve?” Roger flirted.

“I have this secret recipe. You’ll get ...”

“No drugs, mate,” Roger said.

“Oh... Well, how about a Fizz Burner?”

“Champagne?”

“And single malt.”

“No shit?” Roger laughed. 

“It’s a stripped version of a Bourbon Champagne Cocktail but without lemon and syrup.”

“Thank bloody fucking God,” Roger said amused. “Well, why not. I’ll have a double while you’re making it anyway.”

The bartender nodded coyly and went to mix his drink. When he returned he put the drink in front of Roger, who grabbed his wrist and quickly released it again.

“When are you off?” Roger asked.

For a second, the man looked taken aback, but then he leaned forward. “For you... thirty minutes... why?”

“I wanna... dance with you,” Roger said. He wanted to add other things he could do to him, but this was a start.

“Okay,” he said and fluttered hot Latino eyes at Roger who smiled biting his lower lip.

“I’ll be over there,” Roger said and pointed to the table by the window. “And if I’m already on the dance floor, by all means cut in.” He put twenty pounds on the counter and left without the drink. He only drank beer anyway.

Coming back to the table, Roger sensed some negativity.

“You just left!” Mimi said.

“Who are you again?” Roger asked. He’d forgotten all about her.

“C’mon, Roger!” Catherine said with huge eyes.

“That wasn’t very gentlemanlike.”

Rolling his eyes, Roger looked pointedly at Hamish. “When was the last time, I did anything gentlemanlike?”

“How is your brother doing?” Catherine asked, and everyone suddenly stared at him.

“He’s... uh... fine.” He hadn’t told anyone about what happened after the trial yet. He was certain everyone noticed that he’d taken a few days off unexpectedly. Well, he wanted to be there for Aaron.

“Someone said he’s been arrested.”

“You have a brother?” Mimi asked.

“They’re twins,” Catherine said.

“Ohh,” Mimi said intrigued. “Is he nicer than you?”

“He’s way nicer and better looking,” Catherine said.

“We’re identical,” Roger said with a frown, not getting why people always said Aaron was better looking.

“Really?” Mimi droned on. “Measurements... and all that?” Her eyes gave him a once over, clearing referring to his and Aaron’s cock size.

“Do you fancy dancing by any chance?” Roger asked Catherine just to get away from creepy Mimi. He took a long sip of beer and extended his hand to help her stand up on her high heels.

“What a strange bint,” Roger said as he pulled Catherine in on the dance floor. “Is she even a lawyer?”

“No, Roger. She’s definitely not a lawyer.”

“A hooker?”

Catherine snorted. “You’re terrible, Roger! She handles their real estate.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning stop talking about her when you’re dancing with me.”

“Sorry. She was just grating on my nerves.”

“How is Aaron? I mean. Really.”

Roger looked into her eyes and sighed. “Not good. He... wasn’t arrested. He got sentenced without charge and trial after he witnessed. It was horrible and my hands were tied.”

“No!” Catherine exclaimed with genuine shock. “Jesus, Roger... The Magistrate is making sure they get as much money as they can with these hurried sentences. It’s really escalating.” She stopped dancing and just stared at him. “So... where is he?”

“At home.” Roger looked away. His hurt must be showing because Catherine gave him a long hug.

“You bought his lease?” she quickly assessed.

“I had to. Wouldn’t you?”

“Buy my sibling’s lease? Of course.” She let go of him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Give him my love, yeah?”

Roger smirked, “Your cheque is in the mail.”

“Smart arse,” Catherine smirked back.

Her sympathy was genuine enough, and Roger squeezed her shortly. Though sometimes it hurt loving Aaron so much, he would literally always give his baby brother his love.

They danced some more and Roger was enjoying his evening.

Half an hour turned into forty-five minutes and, just as Roger thought the bartender bailed on him, there was a tap on his shoulder and he turned. He looked at him for a few moments and, yes, he definitely wanted to shag this bloke.

“I’m off, Catherine,” Roger said and kissed her cheek.

“You’re unbelievable,” Catherine said, but there was no real malice in her voice.

Roger didn’t bother pretending he actually wanted to dance with the bartender and asked, “Can we go to your place?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can I see your ID?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I don’t care if you work in a bar. I’m not going home with a minor.”

Reluctantly the guy agreed. They left the dance floor and went to the staff’s private area. The bartender found his wallet in a locker and produced his driver’s licence. He was twenty-two.

“And you?” he asked. “It goes both ways.”

“Really?” Roger asked with a toothy grin. “You’re questioning if I’m underage?”

The bartender went to stand close up. “Maybe I just want to know how old you are,” he purred in Roger’s ear.

“Forty.”

“ID, mate.”

Roger laughed lazily. “All right.” He pulled out his driver’s licence and lifted it for inspection.

The young man nodded. “You’re not forty, mate,” he said after checking Roger’s year of birth. Indeed he wasn’t. The twins were still thirty-one.

“Then we’re good.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of this place.”

 

~•§•~

 

The bartender lived in a crummy flat that he shared with some other bloke who wasn’t at home. Going straight for the bedroom, they got undressed with no pretence other than getting off.

“Top or bottom?” Roger asked.

“I get to choose?” the guy said with a smirk. “In that case, I want a blow job, and then ride you.”

“All right,” Roger agreed after a few seconds of internal debate. He wouldn’t have to do all the work. “Want help with stretching?”

“Nah. I’m good. Just give me a moment. Won’t be long,” his date promised and disappeared for a short while.

Roger wondered if he’d anticipated a shag with who ever offered even before he went to work. Well, it was handy, right? Feeling excitement and expectation thrumming in his body, he waited impatiently for the man to return.

 

~•§•~

 

The bartender wanted to sit on the edge of the bed. So Roger was now on his knees, working determinedly. The man’s fingers were buried in his hair, tightening his clasp when he couldn’t help himself. Moving in and out of Roger’s mouth in whatever tempo and depth he felt like. It was all right. Roger had told him it was, as long as he didn’t rip out hairs or damage his vocal chords.

The bartender was a big boy. The weight of his heavy cock felt good in Roger’s mouth making saliva escape his lips and drip from his chin. It added fun noises, sexy noises. And clearly his bed mate liked it, too, judging by the moans he didn’t keep down. Roger stuck his hand between his thighs and grabbed his own cock, hard and dripping. Man, he needed this badly. He didn’t get to come this time around when the bartender blew his load in the condom Roger wouldn’t negotiate him not wearing. 

Slowing down his jerking motions, Roger let go of his cock, and helped the bloke getting rid of the soiled latex. He dropped it on the floor and reached for a new one. He’d brought plenty along knowing he’d get laid eventually.

“Wow... already?” the bloke laughed.

“I can wait if you’re sensitive.”

“No, I’m good. Don’t mind a bit of pain.”

Roger touched his chest, noticing the small jerks. “You are sensitive. We can wait another ten seconds. I’m not that in a hurry,” he smirked. They both knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

“All right...” The bartender looked at Roger slowly jerking his cock again. “I like you,” he said. “I bet you’re a good lay.”

Roger looked at him. “I bet you are, too,” he said and slipped the latex over his dick. “Go on then. Come here and sit on me.”

During the shag, Roger focused on the feeling of being inside another person, the intimacy of it, the pleasure, heat, but he found that he couldn’t look at the bloke who enthusiastically rode his cock. If he did, his concentration disappeared in a split second. The distraction had a name and a face and Roger battled those images. Forbidden fucking images of a round, tight arse. Of soft pink lips, large white teeth glinting in big generous smiles. Little sighs when he wasn’t aware he was being observed... 

“Jesus! Fuck!” Roger cried out as his orgasm was ripped from his mind and body.

The bartender was coming, too, squeezing Roger to the point where it became painful and reminded him who had been riding him all this time. Patiently, he waited for the bloke to climb off, but to his surprise, he leaned forward as if he wanted a snog.

“No,” Roger said and turned his head.

“What the fuck? You’ll suck my dick but not kiss me?”

“I only kiss one person,” Roger said.

The bartender smirked. “Ahhhhh, so you’re cheating on your wife, eh?”

“I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend then?” Now the bartender was intrigued.

“Not exactly.”

“Hmmmm. But he won’t like it?”

“I’m not planning on telling him.”

“So you do cheat on him?”

“No. Excuse me,” Roger said and motioned for the guy to climb off.

Roger pulled off the condom when he found the loo. The room was barely 1x1 meter but there was a small rusty washbasin built into the wall. Using the facilities, he spent some time cleaning up. The images were still on his mind and he found them disturbing. Ridiculous even. He might as well be turned on by thinking about himself. But that wasn’t the case and he needed to do something about. Asking out Mimi? Nah... she was... just too much. Maybe he needed ‘too much’. Roger rested a hand against the mirror and thought long and thorough.

Not Mimi. 

It wasn’t as if Roger didn’t have other alternatives. The thought about these women didn’t make him want to grab his phone and call them. But he had to do it soon and get these urges off his chest. Eradicate them to make sure he wasn’t tempted to go there again.

When he came out of the bathroom, the bloke sat on the bed smoking a joint. Lifting it, he offered to share it with Roger who sat down next to him and allowed himself a long inhale. The effects rolled over him gently pulling him away from the uncomfortable mental place he’d just been in.

“You can stay the night – if you want.”

Not even having to think about it, Roger shrugged. “Thanks. But I need to get home.”

“Sure you don’t want to stay? You seem a little... whipped?” 

Roger snorted quietly. The guy had no idea how much that was true.

The bartender stretched on the bed looking rather tempting, but Roger knew he just wanted to get home to Aaron. 

A broad hand slipped up Roger’s muscular thigh, stomach, and chest. “You _are_ a good lay, mate.”

Roger shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever.” He crawled out of the bed again and got dressed.

“Cheers,” he just said and left.

 

~•§•~

 

When Roger got home, he found Aaron sleeping in his bed. Hovering by the door he watched him for a while.

Aaron slept on his back, one arm behind his head. The duvet had slipped down to his waist. Roger checked him out. Every defined muscle, every moon beam that lit up his flawless skin. His brother was in a much better condition than Roger who tended to forget. He’d have to get on the treadmill tomorrow. Burn off some of the fucking angst. He’d take little Skylar with him. The poor fellow wouldn’t dare to object. Roger cackled inside. Man, that was funny.

Smirking his attention went back to Aaron. “I’m gonna sleep next to _that_ , he said and quickly undressed.

Slipping under the duvet, Roger got comfortable. Aaron turned automatically towards him. 

“You smell of smoke,” he complained.

“Sorry. Was at the club.”

“You should be with me,” Aaron murmured sleepily.

“I am with you,” Roger whispered.

“Could you... take a shower or something? The weed makes me nauseous.”

Looking at Aaron, Roger pointed out, “You chose my bed, baby.”

Smiling, Aaron exhaled air through his nose and nodded.

Roger got out of bed and went to have a real shower. His hair did stink of cigarettes and sickening weed. The second his hair was drip dry, he got back into bed naked.

Feeling the mattress dip, Aaron moved in close, and Roger held on to him. His brother was a little too warm.

“Are you sick?”

“Nose is runny,” Aaron mumbled.

“Probably a reaction to everything, huh?”

“Yeah...” Aaron whispered. “Immune system, not knowing what was going to happen... You’re low on every kind of fuel in a short amount of time like nobody’s business.” Aaron moved away a few centimetres. “You should probably not inhale my breath.”

“Probably not, but I’m sure you’d have passed it on by now anyway if you’re contagious,” Roger said. They looked at each other and they smiled. “You should pretend to be me tomorrow.”

“I think my hair will give me away,” Aaron said.

“Really?” Roger said and pressed his forehead lightly against Aaron’s.

“And my guardian won’t allow me to cut it.”

“He’s such a hard arse.”

Aaron just hummed and closed his eyes with a sleepy sigh. “Sweet dreams,” he said and slipped a hand around Roger’s bum to make him push his thigh between Aaron’s legs where it belonged.

“Sweet dreams, Aaron,” Roger said and swallowed a lump in his throat. It was difficult to contain that much emotion while listening as his adored twin fell back to sleep.

 

~•§•~

 

The next morning, Aaron woke up feeling slightly better. Roger was still asleep, so he slipped out of his room silently. After a quick wee, he went downstairs. Bryan and Skylar were already setting up breakfast and he felt guilty for not being there.

“You should have slept some more,” Bryan said with his usual bright smile.

“Do you live here?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah. I moved back in during the weekend. Saves rent, right?”

“How... how...?” Aaron tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to ask.

“Don't worry, Aaron. We’re taking care of the domestic side of the house now.”

“But...”

Bryan came over to him. “Why don’t you go for a run?”

“But Roger?” 

“Go change. You should still do things for yourself.”

Aaron darted a glance at Skylar who just looked supportive. A camera had appeared in his hand and he was filming the two of them. Aaron opened his mouth again, but decided to shut it.

“He’s making a documentary of his own experience here. We’re intermittently going to show up in it, too.”

“I can edit out what you say, of course,” Skylar offered.

“No – that’s okay. I want the whole world to know what an arsehole Roger Tveit really is.”

“Aaron...” Bryan said.

“He’s been like that my whole life. He won’t be offended by me saying it out loud, Bryan.” Turning to Skylar, Aaron asked, “Is that going to be published?”

Skylar stopped filming and held the camera protectively against his chest. “Not in its entirety.”

Smiling, Aaron nodded. “Well, I’m glad you have this. I’m sure it’s going to be great.”

“I can join you on the run. I just need a few more minutes,” Bryan said.

“Thanks, I’d like that. You can join us, too,” Aaron said to Skylar.

“No. That’s fine. I probably won’t be able to catch up anyway. And the camera will wobble, so...”

Both Bryan and Aaron looked at Skylar’s small frame and shrugged. The guy was probably right. Aaron turned around and they both went back upstairs to their rooms to change. Soon they were outside enjoying the weather.

“Why are you really in the house, Bryan?” was the first thing Aaron asked as they fell into easy strides.

“After my release, I helped Roger doing field work. He came to me, and at that point I hadn’t managed to get a job yet. Occasionally, I’d waited tables in a friend’s restaurant and was prepared to go back to the States to find work. But I’m not exactly Robert Downey jr. who can get jobs even after all the shit he went through. Roger found me and offered a few jobs. I got the tangible proof that Skylar’s wife had an affair with Putney, but that was...”

“You did that?”

“Yeah. Didn’t prove anything, though.”

Aaron smiled. “Oh, Bryan. That’s precious.”

“I know. But, man that was pretty uncomfortable,” Bryan laughed.

“What are Roger’s plans?” Why not go for the jugular right away? Aaron thought.

“I don’t know what his plans are, but I can tell you what we’ve talked about.”

“Please... and let’s turn over there.” Aaron pointed to a slope that took them away from the street. When they’d reached the bottom, they continued into a lush park with narrow paths suited for running.

“So... the music. We all sing. We play instruments. And I’m pretty experienced in arranging any kind of music, and can set up a show that will give people their money’s worth. Roger is actually the one we have to convince because...” Bryan pointed at Aaron with a smile, “...nothing is good enough for Aaron.”

Aaron laughed. “Ha. Yeah... man. That’s really a problem, isn’t it?”

“He’s like a five-year-old who won’t share his toys when it comes to you.”

They ran for a while and Aaron tried to organise his thoughts. The workout left him with a slight endorphin high that helped clear his head. So, yeah what if Roger was possessive? He’d always been like that. And it was annoying? Of course it was. However, in secret Aaron was thrilled by it. He didn’t tell Bryan, though.

“So how far have you talked?”

“We’ve actually discussed our options even before the trial.”

“You’ve simply kept in touch since your release?”

“I... we get each other, yeah. It’s a mutual thing.”

“How?” Aaron asked carefully.

“Musically, we like the same kind of music. We’re constantly agreeing on how the arrangement of songs goes. It’s symbiotic.”

“Wow...” Aaron said and slowed down to a fast walking. “Maybe I should step out of the equation?”

“No no. Then the whole idea collapses.” Bryan pointed at himself. “I can sing, but I don’t have the voice you have.”

“Oh, and how would you know?”

“Besides such classics as the ‘Thong Song’, I’ve heard whole arias when you shower, Aaron. _You_ have the voice. Not me.”

Aaron blushed. He had nothing to say for a while and stopped walking all together. Bryan put a hand on his shoulder.

“This could be good for you. Really good. Don’t you miss it? Standing on a stage? Singing professionally?”

Rubbing the heels of his hands into his wet eye sockets, Aaron shook his head helplessly. “Maybe? Probably. Fuck...” Sniffling he pulled himself together. Keeping his emotions in check had become a challenge, but he knew he didn't have to. Not with the people he was surrounded by.

“All right?” Bryan asked.

“Yeah... I will be.” 

 

~•§•~


	6. Chapter 6

~•§•~

 

The plans to make the gig a reality were finalised during the next few weeks with Bryan working hard to arrange the show and contact the right people. Their combined skills counted Aaron and Roger playing guitar and violin. Aaron even played the French horn when he was younger, but they doubted it would come in use. Roger also played bass, so the string section was covered. Bryan would be bringing an electric piano along just in case the venue didn’t have an acoustic one accessible. Skylar surprised everyone by having played the drums when he was younger. This still counted as a major skill in the household’s rule book. A drum set was purchased and Skylar was instructed to get reacquainted with the instrument and build up stamina. A teacher would be hired if it was necessary. As it were, not just Aaron needed singing lessons, but Skylar and Roger felt they could use a bit of lessons as well, so Bryan took them all under his wings so they could get their voices back in shape.

They also planned on renting a tour bus. The twins could easily afford four-star hotel rooms for each of them, but Bryan insisted it would be good for the team spirit to go modest, besides he had a driver’s licence for driving buses.

Next on the list was getting permission to even take Aaron and Skylar on tour. For that, Roger contacted Judge Deed when he had an errand at the Office anyway.

“What are your plans?” Deed asked.

“Touring with a repertoire of show and musical songs, rock, and pop. You know... music we like and that will appeal to a broad audience and...”

“Yes. I’ll allow that.”

“Really?” Roger perked up.

“It’s good for moral. The sentence is a punishment, but also a means to understand the crime you’ve committed. Giving back to the community in this fashion is... alternative, but also welcome in the communities you’ll be visiting. For your brother and Mr. Astin, this will display the solid example of a positive attitude and improvement of character.”

“Yes... yes, it will,” Roger replied flabbergasted at how quick John agreed to this endeavour. Roger could easily see through the lose argumentation, but he wasn’t going to address this, when the judge was on his side. On Aaron’s side. 

“I’ll have the documents ready for you this afternoon in time before closing. Make sure to come by the Magistrate so the date doesn’t expire. How long do you reckon the tour will take?”

“November-December. Depending on how it goes, we’ll continue after New Year’s Eve.”

“You’ll have to get back to me by then.”

“Thanks, John.”

“You do realise what this means?”

“No...” Roger hesitated.

“With an initiative like this, Mr. Astin and your brother will be able to reduce their sentence with 2%.”

“That’s right,” Roger said, playing along. 

Another improvised favour.

“And what do I need to do for this?” he asked.

John waited a few moments until he answered. “You’ll be handling over your cases when you’re on tour, right?”

“Yes...”

“I’ll think of something you can do for me in due time.”

“You’re my favourite male over sixty, John,” Roger said.

John laughed long and heartily. “Don’t worry, Roger. I’m not looking for sex.”

“Phew...” Roger said in mock relief. “Anytime, John,” he then said, feeling a little turned on.

“Not interested but thanks for the offer. Boosts my trust in my masculinity.”

“And don’t forget it.” Roger made a kissy sound and ended the call.

A knock on his door made Roger look up.

“Finished for today?” Hamish stuck his head in.

“No, I have a small meeting in the Magistrate in about two hours, why?”

“Bars, drinks, girls, you know how that goes. And you owe me for taking your cases while you’re gone.”

So the same people he usually went out with.

“All right. I suppose that in itself should persuade me right away. Will Mimi be there?”

“Not at the pub but I think she’ll be at the club. We’re going there afterwards.” Hamish winked.

“Don't fucking wink at me,” Roger groaned.

“I didn’t wink,” Hamish laughed.

“Whatever. I’ll join you at the club when I’m done here.” 

A female client came by and Roger helped her getting a restraining order against her son and then he went to the Magistrate. The permissions for Aaron and Skylar waited for him in two envelopes at the reception. After signing for them and getting the codes for their bracelets, he went back to the Office to finish up more loose ends on another case before he could allow himself to go clubbing.

Entering the club, he saw that his friends had managed to conquer a table as usual. Slowly he weaved through people to get to them and his mood dampened when he saw Mimi. She had begun tagging along a few times since the first occasion, and her sultriness hadn’t diminished. Neither had Roger’s tendency to feel tense around her.

“Sooo...” she purred as she immediately came on to him taking the spot next to him. Feeling his hackles rise, Roger moved a few inches just because. She moved, too and pushed her hip against his.

“Hello, Mimi. Fancy seeing you here. Doesn’t cheese me off one bit,” he grunted annoyed. 

“New round for everyone, yes?” Barclay, who’d somehow managed to squeeze in to their tight knitted group as well tonight, asked.

“If you’re buying,” Roger said with a tight smile.

“Yeah, all right. Beer?”

People rattle off their drink preferences for this round, and the posh fellow happily went to order them at the bar. Glancing around, Roger tried to see if his favourite bartender was working tonight. He wasn’t. Bugger that. He turned his head to look at Mimi. She was flirting with Catherine. 

Roger frowned. What was so alluring about her? Everyone seemed to find her cute and fun so why was she pushing _his_ buttons?

Before they knew it, efficient Barclay had managed to order, purchase, and return with their drinks.

 _Goody two shoes_ , Roger thought, but then he wondered why he was in such a foul mood when he was here to enjoy himself. Grabbing his beer, he almost chugged it down. It was cold, and he so needed this.

“Your birthday is coming up, Roger,” Catherine said apropos nothing.

“No, it’s not,” Roger denied immediately. 

“We won’t plan anything too ghastly,” Hamish laughed.

“Why would you plan anything at all?” he asked sourly, “It’s also Aaron’s birthday. Plan a party for him.”

“You’re so deliciously grumpy,” Mimi said and pinched his cheek. Roger grabbed her little hand and remembered to not hurt her. “We’ll let your little brother join the party, too. Just tell us when it’s his bedtime, so I can read him... a story.”

Roger sent Catherine a pleading look and stretched his arm along the back of the vinyl upholstered bench he sat on.

 _Sorry_ , she mimed with a big smile.

Noticing his arm behind her Mimi giggled, got on her feet, and dragged Roger out as well. “Dance with me,” she demanded.

“Bloody Christ,” Roger muttered, but he still followed her to the dance floor. Immediately, Mimi pushed herself against Roger who grudgingly wrapped his arms around her small frame. “If this is your way of getting close to my brother, you can forget about it.”

“Gees... isn’t he like... hitting thirty-two like you?”

Roger counted to three twice. “That’s not the bloody point.”

“He’s retarded or something?”

“No. He’s as normal as they get.”

“Then...”

“See? You’re asking questions about him. That’s the fucking point.”

“And why can’t I?” Mimi asked looking at Roger, while running her tongue along her upper teeth. Roger’s cock twitched predictably. She smirked. 

“He’s convicted. You know this. That’s why he can’t...”

“If you say so,” Mimi said. One of her hands slipped down Roger’s chest before she grabbed his junk gently. “No. I’m interested in you. Not your look alike.”

The stalls in the unisex restroom weren’t ideal for what they came for, but it would have to do. Distracting grunts were heard from the other stalls, but Mimi wasn’t picky. 

Roger rolled a condom on his cock before he picked her up like she weighed nothing. Mimi moaned in delight as he slid into her, and she hooked her legs behind him. 

“Watch my back,” she said. The plaster had grates that would dig into her exposed skin. Lifting her head, she dared him to keep eye contact. Roger sensed she wanted to kiss him, but that was not going to happen. Her fingers jotted into his hair to pull him down, and when he still wouldn’t give it to her, she bit his lip.

Roger shouted out in pain and suddenly Mimi’s tongue was in his mouth. His blood smeared her lips, and Roger was repulsed as well as turned on. His hands grabbed her arse and he didn't really give a fuck if her back was grated or not as he fucked into her, rough and animalistic. No images of Aaron interrupted this time, and relieved Roger tried to pace it with the sounds Mimi was making. He couldn’t tell if she was close or just generally excited, but eventually he came.

“You can stop now,” she suddenly said.

Roger’s hips slowed down and he looked at her, while he tried to get his pulse under control.

“I hope you came, because I sure did,” she said.

Taking a deep breath, Roger let her down on her feet again. Pulling off the latex he threw it in the toilet, cleaned off his skin, and tucked himself back in. Mimi had already stepped out of the stall, so Roger followed her out. Other people entered the vacant stall as if they’d only been waiting for them to hurry up and leave.

“This was fun...” Mimi said, clearly sarcastic.

“...don’t expect a repeat,” Roger said.

“Oh, I won’t... but perhaps Aaron would like one.”

Roger gritted his teeth. “I’m going to give you some advice that you’d better heed.” Lowering his voice, he hissed, “Stop fucking provoking me all the time.” The look in his eyes via the mirror must have made Mimi rethink her routine of thoughtless remarks, because she shrunk away from the mirror, and stopped pretending to camouflage the freshly–gotten-fucked look about her and left the restroom.

Washing his hands, Roger looked at himself in the mirror. Shagging Mimi hadn’t exactly enriched his life. Next time he saw her, he would pretend this never happened. He didn’t need to add bad decisions like this to his already complex life. Sneering at his reflection, he assessed that he wouldn’t look any better or worse and went to join the others.

Mimi had left. 

Roger didn’t miss her.

He did however notice that Catherine had left, too.

 

~•§•~

 

October 21st. The twins celebrated their 32nd birthday in city. They had rented a different night club than their regular. A smaller number with a live band playing every show tune people could possibly request. Only those who would not stand them up were invited to avoid snobs at their party. They hadn’t wished for anything - not even from each other, but someone had arranged a table where gifts steadily were put as guests arrived.

Seeing the room filled with people, made Aaron extremely relieved. In honest, he hadn’t been so thrilled about this party, because he felt singled out, sentenced. He wasn’t sure why they needed to make such a big thing out of this particular birthday, but Roger had insisted, so apparently his brother needed it or thought Aaron did.

There were surprisingly many people from show business, and unexpectedly many of them were still interested in working with Aaron. 

“I always wanted to work with you while you were singing, Aaron,” some director from a popular West End theatre said.

“Yeah, well, I’ll have to wait till my service is done,” Aaron said.

“Oh...” the man said. “And when is that?”

“Six years.”

“Wow... that’s a lot of time.”

“I’m working on it,” Roger said, having overheard the conversation.

“I could use you,” the man said and grinned.

“Not interested. Besides, we have plans. Until then, Aaron’s voice works for me,” Roger said taking over.

“Call me, Aaron,” the man said and passed over his business card to him as he went by. Roger reached over to take it, but Aaron literally slapped his hand.

“Stop doing that. It’s embarrassing!” Aaron pushed Roger away.

“But I don’t like how he...”

Aaron pushed him again angrily, “It’s not a chastity belt you’re guarding. I’m your fucking _brother_. You fucking feel me?”

“All right, all right, you sassy little bitch! Calm down.”

Aaron counted inwardly not to snarl. “Can I have my phone so the nice man can call me?” 

Roger shook his head knowingly, “He’s not gonna call you, if I can help it.”

“Really? You really think that hot fifty-year old bloke over there wants to shag me?”

“Yes!”

“Good! Because I haven’t gotten laid in forever,” Aaron said. Then he quickly looked around to see if they had created a scene, but no one seemed to stare at them oddly.

Roger put his arm around Aaron’s waist, but he twisted out and mingled instead, which was a little difficult because Roger was still keeping close.

“Hey, twinsies! Brilliant party,” Catherine said; she hung off some pretty brunette. 

“This is Mimi. Mimi. Aaron, Roger’s twin, remember?” Both women saluted him with their flutes of champagne.

“How could I ever forget?” Mimi said and smiled at Aaron. “Roger is practically building a shrine for you.” 

“How are you, Aaron?” Catherine asked.

“Great,” Aaron said and smiled at them. He wasn’t interfering with whatever was going on between them. Apparently, Roger couldn’t stand Mimi, but he didn’t want to say why. It was exhausting, and Aaron wondered why he always was the one being considerate to how Roger felt.

Roger and Mimi sized each other up, that much was evident, and the distaste was clear from both sides.

“Did you have a decorator, a party planner?” Mimi asked.

“No. We made this last night,” Roger said. “We sat till midnight cutting out the streamers ourselves.”

“You’re being sarcastic.”

“No, he’s just an arse,” Aaron said and looked pointedly at Roger.

“Doing anything later?” Mimi asked.

“I think you should take Mimi home, Cathy. It’s not a request.”

Aaron sighed, when Catherine did exactly that. “I can’t believe this is how the next six years of my life is going to be,” he said. Roger stood still next to him. After a few moments, his hand came to rest on Aaron’s shoulder.

“You need to give me some space or... I don't know how I’m going to get through this.”

“All right. I’m sorry, darling. I’ll try better.”

 

The rest of the evening did in fact go better. 

Afterwards they took the party back home. Now it was four in the morning, and the four occupants of the house were downstairs in the entertainment dungeon, enjoying drinks they took turns mixing.

After more rounds of billiard than they could count, they were all dancing in one messy group. The twins had been dancing, grinding, and in general behaving loose and handsy with each other since they got home. The petty arguments from the club long since forgotten in favour of mutual, affectionate groping.

Roger pulled Aaron toward one of the love seats. Moulding their muscular torsos to fit the same spot went surprisingly well. Aaron was on his back with Roger leaning over. At this point, they only had eyes for each other.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Roger muttered before he closed the distance between their lips and kissed Aaron firmly. Aaron smiled into the kiss and left space for Roger’s tongue.

The moan that followed fuelled Roger and the kiss grew from there. The fact that his brain always remembered what kissing Aaron tasted like, whereas everyone else just tasted salty, was a powerful turn on for Roger. His hand found its way to Aaron’s hair to keep his brother’s head in check. Fingers, slipped through the strands and with the perfect tug, Aaron’s face was pressed into a better angle, a deeper kiss and Roger got lost in his taste, his scent, his hot mouth...

“Keep it down, guys,” Bryan said.

“Why?” Roger asked, kissing Aaron who hummed.

“It looks like the next thing on your to-do-list is getting undressed, and we’d rather not... you know...” Bryan said.

They broke off the kiss.

Oh. They were not alone.

“How would you know we don’t already... you know...” Roger asked.

“Because I don’t eavesdrop on you.”

“Oh. Unlike when you hear me in the shower?” Aaron said.

“That was low even for you, Aaron,” Bryan said.

“Oh, my god, I’m sorry, Bryan,” Aaron babbled, immediately feeling guilty, and grabbed his hand.

With squinted eyes, Bryan looked at him. “All right, I forgive you, but only because you’re drunk.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be this drunk. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

“I have no problem with how close you two are, really, but the tension and hostility between you creates an unhealthy environment for the rest of us. You need to figure out what you want before we go on tour, or someone might get hurt. I get that it’s nothing new. I’m sure you’ve always been closer than close. It’s probably a twin thing, but it affects us.”

“In what way?”

“Roger is in love with Aaron and Skylar is in love with Roger,” Bryan said, not sugar coating this.

“I’m not in love with Aaron,” Skylar protested. When he realised his Freudian slip, he lowered his camera before he pushed his glasses up his nose. 

Bryan turned and smirked at Skylar. “If you say so.”

Aaron looked at Roger who looked back. The looks they gave each other were curious as if they hadn’t thought about it before. 

The DNA that ran through their bodies was identical. One cell. And the feeling of belonging hadn’t diminished just because that one cell divided into billions and pushed them apart into two individuals. It felt like they still smarted from the separation when they were away from each other for too long.

“It’s always been this way, hasn’t it?” Aaron said. “I often felt that Jon must have felt like an outsider. Not only six years younger but also not a twin. He sure spent a lot of time with his friends.”

“We never left any room for him. Should we feel bad about that?” Roger asked. They looked at each other again and naughty smiles erupted on their faces.

“Nah...” they said unanimously.

“Um... I was thinking... have you ever... with a bloke?” Roger asked.

“No,” Aaron said with a laugh.

“But...”

“But nothing.” Then he shrugged with an archly expression in his eyes. “I might some time.”

“But does it turn you on?”

“I suppose in an abstract way thinking about it does. I don’t know if doing the deed would. I might give it a try just to know what I’m talking about.”

Roger’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you fucking dare. I can actually forbid that, you tit,” he said and moved his palm across Aaron’s chest, pausing when his fingers found a prominent nipple.

Aaron squirmed at the contact and looked steely at him. “Not cool, Roger. And I know, all right? Doesn’t take a community sentence to know that. Besides, you never want me to have sex with anybody.”

Roger stared at him. They never said that directly to each other - just entertained futile rows over it instead of stating the fact that they both honestly hated knowing the other had sex with someone else.

“I want you to have sex, Roger... I do... I just...” Aaron looked at the ceiling. “Gods why is it so difficult?”

“I don’t know,” Roger said. Well, he did. He just didn’t want to admit it out loud. They shouldn’t have sex with each other, so they had to get it from someone else. “And of course, I want you to have a sex life, too... Just...”

Helpless they looked at each other. 

“We’re so bad at this,” Aaron whispered and pressed a kiss to Roger’s lips.

Grabbing Aaron’s head, Roger held him there, keeping the kiss lingering. When he let go of Aaron’s lips, his own were tingling. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Roger.”

Roger looked at him sincerely and repeated, “No. You don’t understand, baby. I _love_ you.”

“I know. I love you, too,” Aaron said with a nod.

Roger sighed pained. “Let’s just go to bed.” 

Looking around, they saw that the others had left the dungeon at some point. Aaron got out of the love seat and took Roger’s hand to pull him up.

“Man, I think we got a little too much to drink tonight. But great party,” Aaron said.

Nodding, Roger just let himself be dragged along, a little unsure on his feet now that he stood up. When they reached the door to Aaron’s bedroom, he knew he couldn't handle sleeping on his own. Then Aaron opened the door and his hand was still attached to Roger’s. 

“Sleep with me,” Roger heard him say.

“What?” he asked confused, relieved even.

“I told you to sleep in my bed,” Aaron said and undressed entirely. 

Roger just stood there and watched him. “You’re beautiful,” he said when Aaron rounded the bed.

“And you’re so drunk. We look the same, Roger.”

But they didn’t. They could never look the same when Aaron was so striking. “No,” he said sentimentally.

“Come. You need to sleep it off,” Aaron said and reached out for him to come to bed.

Quickly, Roger went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. When he came back, Aaron was still waiting for him. Getting all his clothes off, too, Roger slipped under the cool duvet. The crisp coldness made him reach for the middle and Aaron’s warm body. 

“Turn around,” he said. Aaron did and for the first time in their lives, Roger spooned his brother skin against skin. Pushing his dick in between the firm buttocks almost caused a moan, but he didn’t. Aaron said nothing either. Not even when Roger’s rigid cock moved on its own accord. He tried so hard not to give in, to move, but when Aaron’s hand reached back to guide his hips, he did.

Lifting his top leg, Aaron let Roger’s cock in between his thighs and then he closed the gap. Roger held onto Aaron’s shoulder as he thrust his hips into his backside. His precome greased the frottage and the sounds it made had Aaron’s breath hitching. Roger pressed his mouth against the nape of Aaron’s neck, and felt his twin’s hips counter thrust into his pelvis. Roger’s grip on his shoulder tightened. 

Oh, the desperate sighs of pleasure, of an almost painful strain to reach a climax that promised to be too good.

Aaron’s breath stuttered as his erupted in his hand and Roger groaned. Perhaps too loud, but the elation he felt. The adrenaline from a good work out and the endorphins from a spectacular orgasm had him floating in euphoria.

At some point, he heard Aaron’s voice call him back. 

“Roger? Sweetheart? Open your legs, so I can clean this up.” 

“Hmm?” Roger asked and when he opened his eyes, Aaron was looking at him. “Happy birthday,” he said.

“Sleep tight,” Aaron said when he was done.

“Hmmmm,” Roger murmured and as soon as Aaron was back in his arms, he fell asleep.

 

~•§•~


	7. Chapter 7

~•§•~

 

The twins were conscious about the significant change the night they shared had made. 

The tension in the house had lifted and even though they might not think it was a good idea, the others admitted that their group dynamic had improved. Aaron and Roger didn’t dive into an actual relationship. It was way too soon for something as real as that. They didn’t stop their tactile affection, however, but didn’t repeat that kind of nightly activity either. They continued to sleep naked in Roger’s bed and that didn’t hurt anyone. The result of that only meant that now they preferred to sleep that way, talk openly about it, and Bryan and Skylar respected that.

The tour kicked off in November and spread out for two months. If it went well, dates would be added for January. So far twenty venues were booked with the last two shows scheduled for London when they returned before Christmas. They chose not to promote the tour further than the next gig ahead. Nevertheless, it didn’t take long before they found out that word somehow spread of this brand new quartet playing high quality show music combined with modern pop and rock. They'd caught people's interest. The set of songs was quirky but worked well, and the feedback from the people who showed up was encouraging. This unexpected success fuelled the four band members and the chemistry they carried across the stage came back double fold.

Three weeks in, they’d played an especially fantastic gig at the O2 Academy in Newcastle on Tyne to a surprisingly large amount of people. By then they’d all come to the conclusion that the gigs hadn’t been as grizzly as expected. The tickets were actually sold and not just handed around as freebies. 

“Yeah, and that was ‘Young Wild Girls’ by Bruno Mars, but sung by me,” Aaron joked with the audience who clapped enthusiastically. “I really like that song. It makes me feel like the bad arse that I’m not, you know what I mean, like. ‘Cause sometimes I wish I was that guy. But what are you gonna do? Um. So, Roger and Skylar are gonna sing the next song. It’s called ‘Rent’ from the musical of the same name.” The crowd cheered and Aaron smiled. “...and Bryan and I’ll just try and resemble a twenty-piece choir to back them up...” Aaron laughed and adjusted his guitar strap. 

“You could also do “Jailhouse Fuck,” some shit head in the crowd suggested.

“We could, and how about you being the one we fuck?” Roger suggested as he quickly neared the edge of the stage, looking at everyone who dared to meet his eye. There was no come back from that one, and Roger stepped back again with a satisfied nod. His clanging chains and boots made him look like a punk rock god from the late 70’s. 

Aaron gulped. Gees, Roger turned him on when he was like that. It was impossible not to. His eyes were lined in black, hair spiked and freshly bleached, and he showed off his tattoos in full display in a cropped top and jeans so tight not much was left to the imagination.

When Roger cast him a grin, Aaron bit his lip. Then he looked at Skylar who shouted, “The power blows!” before they all engaged in playing the noisy entry part to the next energetic song.

After the show, they gathered at the table in the lounge area of the bus.

“Uh. So bored,” Aaron said, drumming his fingers on his thighs from restless post concert energy.

Roger came with a bottle of tequila, and even though they shouldn’t drink to protect their voices, no one argued against it. Glasses were divided and the first round was quickly measured.

“We could do rounds of ‘tell me your favourite things’... like flowers, colour, and...” Skylar suggested.

“No!” Aaron and Bryan said at the same time. The suggestion was immediately shot down with no mercy.

“Next we have to whip out our school class photos with bad hair and pimples,” Bryan said and shook his head for emphasis.

“Speaking of – how many people do you remember from school, and are you still in contact with them? Not counting pseudo social media connections like Facebook friends you don’t actually call or see...”

“Nice one, Skylar,” Roger applauded. 

“I don’t see anyone obviously. I’m stuck here,” Skylar said. 

“And before?”

“No. Not really.”

“If I wasn’t in contact with them on Facebook I wouldn’t even be thinking about them.”

“That’s my brother,” Aaron said with fake pride. “I have a few. Not many I must admit, but I wouldn’t even have had the time – you know, before the sentence. I was busy working.”

Bryan nodded. “I have some, yeah. But most of my friends and relations are from after school. I chose a different life that resolved in new friends whom I do see from time to time.”

Roger agreed. “I didn’t even like those I went to school with. They were...”

“Ordinary and not irrational?” Aaron said with a laugh and ruffled his brother’s hair.

“Thank you, Aaron,” Roger said dryly. They looked at each other for a few moments before the moment passed.

“I want my phone back.”

“Not happening, Aaron,” Roger replied.

“Fuck you very much.”

Aaron looked away and totally missed the spark in Roger’s eyes at that comment.

“Another round?” Roger lifted the bottle and shook it to allure his pack.

“Yes. Hit me,” Bryan said and reached out his glass for more.

“Why were you sentenced in England... if you don’t mind me asking?” Skylar asked Bryan, reaching out his glass when Bryan had his refilled.

Bryan looked at him and said, “I got married here.”

“You got...?” All three of them stared at him. 

“Married.” Bryan fluttered his hand showing off a ring.

“You never wore that ring while you were in our house.”

“No. Because I didn't think it would make much difference to you.”

“Of course it would,” Aaron said. “Visitation much?”

“We found a way.”

“Did you meet here?”

“No. In America.”

“You’re still married?”

“Roger!” Aaron said.

“What?!”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you living with us?” Skylar asked. “Wouldn’t you rather...”

“No.” Bryan’s answer was short.

“Bryan?” Roger prodded.

“I prefer living in your house. Don’t make it sound like a bad thing.”

“But your husband?”

“Is in the States where he belongs. We talked about it and we need the space for a while doing our own thing. Call it an open relationship if you will. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other, all right?” Bryan looked at them challengingly.

“Right...” Aaron said grudgingly. “Just say the word if you want to leave...”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Bryan asked calmly.

Roger cracked up. “This is the best fucking drama. I bloody love this.”

“Okay... moving on?” Bryan asked, insistent on steering the subject away from his marriage.

“What are your... sexual preferences?” Roger asked. “And we all have to guess.” 

“Oh, may I film this?” Skylar asked, and to his surprise no one objected, so he quickly got his hands on his camera.

“You are... straight,” Skylar guessed pointing the lens at Roger.

“No.”

“Oh... gay?” Bryan asked, but he didn’t look like he thought so.

“Bi?” Skylar chanced.

“No and nope,” Roger said grinning widely.

Aaron squinted his eyes and said, “You’re... pansexual.”

Roger looked at him and nodded gradually. “Maybe...” Then he sent him a dirty smile.

“Oh, come on. You’ll shag anything that moves.”

“Not true!” Roger said.

“Yuhuh, is so.”

“Well, I haven’t fucked you yet.”

“Really!?”

“Jesus, now what?” Roger asked lifting his hands and shoulders in his trademark gesture when people found him tactless. 

Looking at Skylar, Bryan tapped a finger to his lips. “You are... straight.”

“Straight.”

“Straight.”

“I’m straight,” Skylar said. “No surprise there.”

The other three looked at each other, and then Aaron said, “We don’t believe you, Skylar.”

Skylar looked positively scandalised. “I am! I could have gotten many opportunities in my career if I’d wanted to... to sleep with men, but I haven’t.”

“Doesn’t really mean you’re not gay, does it?” Roger teased.

“I’m...”

Aaron sat down next to him and ruffled his hair. “We’re just fucking with you, mate. You know that,” he assured Skylar and gave him a kiss on the top of the head.

“Ha-ha, then the joke’s on me,” Skylar huffed and did his weird shoulder shrug that could mean anything. “Your turn,” he said looking determined again, perhaps even sly. “You are... bi?” 

Aaron kept his smile in check, but the dimples in his cheeks became prominent.

“Bi.”

“Why do you think that?” Aaron asked surprised after getting two bi’s.

“Aaron is... straight,” Roger said.

“Thank you, Roger,” Aaron said and reached up for a high-five.

“But with a preference for a select few blokes,” Roger smirked and squatted close to Aaron.

“A few...!! Definitely not,” Aaron said and looked annoyed at his twin. “I’m straight but since you push me, I guess I could always experiment. I’m just not saying in which direction.”

Roger smiled indulgently, and rightfully so. Aaron had no intention on experimenting any longer with anyone other than Roger.

“You guys are all right,” Skylar said, lowering his camera.

Bryan smiled at him. “You’re all right, too, Skylar.”

“You’re all great,” Roger concurred. “I’m sincerely happy to share this experience with you, so thank you, thank you, Bryan, for suggesting this.”

“My pleasure. It’s what I did for a living anyway.”

“Thank you,” Aaron said and smiled warmly at Bryan. 

“Worst thing you ever did?” Roger asked everyone, his eyes sparkled with genuine interest as he found a seat.

Bryan coughed. “I think it would have to be when I kept ordering sex toys to be sent to Daniel’s office to get his attention... Daniel’s my husband.” Then he frowned. “Or was that really a bad thing to do?”

The twins laughed. “Well, you landed him, right?” Roger said.

“Yeah – eventually he was so pissed off he wanted to have a talk at his place... needless to say the toys came in handy.”

“Ew!” Both Aaron and Roger looked horrified at the images that came to their third eye.

“Considering what you two subject us to, you do not have a case, councillor,” Bryan said and pointed at Roger who pointed back. Bryan turned his head to gather Skylar’s reaction. “You’re not filming,” he noticed.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Aaron asked putting his arm around Skylar. Then he nodded encouragingly at the smaller man.

Bryan and Roger leaned closer as if they’d miss what was to be said.

“What can you possibly have done, Skylar, other than being sentenced for someone else’s crime?” Roger asked and burped into his elbow crook.

Shrugging delicately, Skylar whispered, “Being actually guilty of charge.”

“Come again?” Roger asked not sure he heard right. Then he leaned away. “ _This!_ The fraud charge? Your fucking case?!”

“...uhu...” Skylar said carefully.

“You fucking little cunt!” Roger exploded as the connection to the last half year dawned on him. He shot to his feet, but before he could even take another step and go strangulating Skylar, Bryan got up there with him and clocked him on the chin, then grabbed him before he could fall and hurt himself. Looking confused and hurt at Skylar, he tended to Roger and made sure he wasn’t too badly hurt when he came round again shortly after. 

“Gees,” Roger said groggily, looking at Bryan. “Did you box?”

“I do box.”

“How interesting...” Roger said dazed right until memory kicked in and he looked for the culprit, only to find him with Aaron. “You’ve got some nerve, Skylar.”

“Lay off, Roger,” Aaron said. “I knew, all right.”

Roger got on his knees and sank down on his bent legs. “Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And watch you throttle a bloke already lying down? I don’t think so. We’ve had our talks about this, and we’re done talking. Just looking forward. And now you all know.”

Skylar couldn’t have looked more relieved that his dark secret was finally out.

Roger breathed agitatedly, pleading even. “And where does that leave you, baby?”

“Right in the middle of the wrong place at the wrong time. My fault Roger. Not Skylar’s.”

“Why... why are you so _okay_ with that?”

“Because there is nothing I can do to change it.”

“Your sentence is cut down with 2%, remember?” Bryan reminded them.

“Yeah, isn’t it great?” Roger said glancing around frustrated. When his eyes reached Skylar he lifted his chin and said, “I’m sorry, Skylar. I apologise.”

Skylar nodded jerkily like he preferred to stay with Aaron’s arm around his back.

Aaron nudged him. “Okay!” Skylar verbalised, still apprehensive about Roger. “We were so far in debt that I had to do something. So we made this pact that I would take the fall, and my wife would go free.”

“And Putney?”

“He had no second thoughts about playing the innocent. Just as long as my wife got free.”

“But she slept with him.”

“I know... it was an open relationship.”

“Skylar... no,” Roger and Bryan said at the same time. 

“She was obviously cheating on you. I got the proof,” Bryan said.

“Whatever... it’s in the past,” Skylar said uncomfortably.

“All right. We won’t mention it again unless you feel like talking about it.”

No one said anything for a few minutes. Each thinking about the things revealed that night.

“Good talking everyone. We should do this more often. I’m going for a walk now,” Roger announced after some time, got up, and grabbed his duvet jacket. 

“It’s in the middle of the night,” Bryan said.

“So? I can walk around the bus twenty times if I feel like it.”

“Can I borrow your phone while you’re doing that?” Aaron asked.

“Hasn’t he given you your phone back?” Bryan asked.

“No.”

“Roger? Hand over his phone. You never took mine from me.”

Roger looked at Bryan as if he’d betrayed him. Bryan just cocked an eyebrow unimpressed. Finally, Roger pulled out Aaron’s phone from his inner pocket and tossed it lightly at his brother. “Fine. I can’t crack your access code anyway.”

Thrilled to have his phone back, Aaron clutched it tightly. “My god. I didn't know how much I really missed it.” So many missed calls he didn’t even know where to begin. Text messages from people who either knew what happened, didn’t have a clue, or had some choice words for him. Wow... Hours of fun to leaf through all of those.

Watching Roger step off the bus, Skylar sighed carefully.

“Are you afraid of him?” Aaron asked already checking stuff on his phone of everything that had happened since August. At least Roger had kept it charged.

“Am I? More like intimidated. I didn’t used to be afraid of anybody where I come from. This sentence has actually taught me a lesson, but just a day after the fair. But no. After tonight’s confessions, I’m sure we’ve been through the worst.”

“Me, too. You were brave.”

“Mostly I’ve been a coward.”

“Love will do that to you.”

“Love?” Skylar asked. “It wasn’t love, Aaron. I needed her to stay here. To get a residence permit so I wouldn’t have to go back to my old life. When my sentence is done, I’ll be thrown out of the country because we divorced.”

“I understand.”

“How can you be so understanding?”

“I just don’t think you’re a bad person, Skylar, all right?” Aaron said.

“It breaks my heart that you can be so kind to me. I wish I’d known back then how kind you are, and I would never have dragged you into my goddamn financial mess.”

Aaron’s eyes glossed with unshed tears. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “But let me tell you something.”

They looked at each other with much concentration.

“If it hadn’t happened, I would have continued my boring predictable life producing boring predictable television shows, and this exciting thing we’re doing would not have happened. So... maybe I needed this? Don't interrupt, Skylar. Don’t superimpose my needs to yours.”

Skylar shut his mouth.

“I love Roger. It’s obvious how much he loves me back. I’m never gonna get married or settle down where he is not. So in that sense, I’m not wasting my life and neither is he. We are going to be together till one of dies. And it’s okay. That’s how we want it because I’d fucking perish if he dies before me,” Aaron pointed at his chest, the tears now running freely down his cheeks.

Skylar’s lips trembled. “I envy you that. Not that I don't think you don’t deserve it, but to have a love this powerful I fucking envy you that.”

Aaron nodded trying to reel in these strong emotions. Love was overwhelming. Loving Roger almost impossibly divine. 

He got up and stepped off the bus to find him. When he found Roger resting against the bumper behind the bus, he pulled him in and hugged him.

“What is it?” Roger asked with his hand cradling Aaron’s head.

“Nothing,” Aaron said, and stuck his arms inside Roger’s jacket to feel him better. “Can we just stay like this for a very long time?”

“Of course, darling. If it makes you happy we can tour for the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah?” Aaron said and kissed him longingly.

“Yeah...” Roger muttered when their lips parted. “We might lose the house eventually but it would totally be worth it living in a cheap student flat sharing a mattress on the floor.”

Aaron looked at Roger. He would do it if Aaron wanted them to. “I just got my phone back. Why would I downgrade to struggle paying the phone bill or even worse: the power bill.”

“Because you love me?” Roger said, his hands travelling down to cradle Aaron’s denim clad buttocks. His fingers squeezed the generous curves and Aaron moaned against his neck.

“Because I could shave off more of my sentence,” he managed to say.

“That, too,” Roger said and leaned in. With little sighs of pleasure, they made out for a while.

Aaron was the first to let go.

“Roger... I’ve been thinking. Would you ever like to repeat our night?” he asked in a low voice.

“Shagging you?” Roger asked surprised enough to let go of his twin’s attributes.

“Yeah...” Aaron said.

“I wish you meant it,” Roger said, nosing Aaron’s neck.

“Hmmm...” Aaron exhaled through his nose; his breath a mist in the chilly night air. “Maybe I do.”

“Me inside you?” Roger asked to make sure Aaron couldn't possibly be talking about something else.

“I don't know, Roger,” Aaron said. “I enjoyed what we did, and I can fantasise about wanting it, but for real?”

“We could switch? You... topping me. Have you fantasised about that?”

Aaron looked at him and time stood still for a long time. “Maybe? Yes?” he finally admitted breathlessly. 

“Then we should definitely enjoy that some time?”

“All right,” Aaron said and slipped his arms out of Roger’s jacket.

“All right,” Roger said with a wondrous smile Aaron didn’t think he’d ever seen before. 

“Now I’m going to tell the others the worst thing I ever did. Don’t stay out for too long,” Aaron teased and looked over his shoulder when he walked around the bus. With a smirk, he heard Roger’s footsteps a second after, as he followed Aaron back inside the bus.

 

~•§•~

 

“Remember how scared you were you were going to end up being someone’s sex slave?” Aaron asked, casting a look down the aisle, where Roger had gone to bed in the bunk section.

“I’ll never forget it,” Skylar said.

“You didn't want to go to sleep that first night.”

“Neither would you, Aaron.”

“I can barely remember what I was so frightened of.”

“Abuse of power. That’s what you were afraid of,” Bryan suggested.

“Loss of dignity. The feel of injustice. Stigmatising. Shame...”

“Yeah, all of those things,” Aaron said with a smile. “I need to figure out how to slip people the sleeping pill in another way if we ever lease another servant.”

“I can never tell how grateful I am you happened to be the one who leased me, by the way,” Bryan said.

“You’re welcome, Bryan,” Aaron replied.

“Me, too,” Skylar said behind his camera, and then he lowered it. “You told me you were impressed by the production I’d done that time. You were a producer, too. How did it work for you? It must be tons of different ways than how I did it.”

“Well, I was a production manager for BBC plus some freelance when I had the time. It’s a high stress job getting everything that’s needed in time for approval and rehearsal. But it never goes that way. Once you get to rehearsal there will always be changes. Either you figure out a smart solution or you need a new bout of approval from the people in charge. Sometimes everything is scratched. It’s stressful, and you’re at fault if that happens because it’s your job. I loved that kind of stress.”

“But not anymore?”

“I don't miss a second of it,” Aaron said and meant it. “Actually, it’s been good for me not to have responsibility. And this has made me realise how much I miss my old career.”

“But weren’t you a producer?” Bryan asked.

“Yes. That, too. But selecting a script, coordinating writing, directing, editing, and arranging financing is...” Aaron laughed. “Gods, I most certainly don’t miss that either. What have I been whining about, huh?” he said and laughed.

Skylar picked up his camera again. “So what is the worst thing you ever did, Aaron?”

“Yeah, that. It’s speeding. I mean. I really drove recklessly fast and almost collided with another car. I shouldn’t have gotten away with it. People around me were ridiculously lucky they didn’t get hurt because there was no accident. Doesn’t make me feel any better about it, and reminds me that Sebastian was charged for it. Could easily have been me.”

“How old were you?”

“Too old to know better,” Aaron said. “I haven’t done it since, and no, I was not influenced by alcohol. I was just in a reckless hurry to get somewhere not important enough.”

“I once went to an audition pretending to be Aaron,” they heard Roger say further down from his bunk.

“You what?” Aaron said and got up.

Roger stuck his tousled head out from his top bunk and looked at them. “I went to an audition in your name.”

“Wow,” Bryan said and chuckled incredulous.

“It was after RADA, so there is no record of it, I’m sure.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Just to see if it made any difference. I’d auditioned as myself earlier and then I went as you the day after.”

“Huh...” the others laughed.

“That’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

“Yes, because they gave me the part as you. Not as me.”

“Oooh...” 

Roger slipped down from the bunk and came back to the lounge. He dropped down on the couch next to Aaron and said, “It was... um... a strange experience because I auditioned with the same song and sang it the exact same way both times.”

“Didn’t they realise the connection?”

“They never said anything and I didn’t ask.”

Bryan cocked his head, “So you accepted the part?”

Roger looked away. “Yes... but I skipped before rehearsals. I didn’t want to be known as a fraud.”

“I remember you skipped a role you got,” Aaron said. “That was the part?”

“Yeah, but then the gigs started coming, and I decided to take my chances with the band instead.”

“Wow...”

“I know. So that’s the worst thing I’ve ever done... I mean. My job excluded.” Roger lifted Aaron’s arm that slipped around him automatically. Roger put his head against Aaron’s neck and his eyes closed, ready to nap.

“You’re tired, darling,” Aaron whispered and ran his hand across his hair a few times. “Let’s go to bed instead, yeah?”

“Sleep in my bunk?” Roger asked hopefully as he looked into Aaron’s eyes.

“Absolutely not!” Bryan and Skylar objected. They could do whatever they wanted in a hotel room, but on the bus, there was a no sleeping with anyone rule. That included two lovey-dovey twins.

“Fine, we’ll just sleep here,” Roger smirked and kissed Aaron’s nose.

“Ugh... bonus points for being cute.”

“I don’t do cute,” Roger said.

“I know. That’s why,” Bryan said. “Back into your bed where you belong, Roger.” 

Reluctantly, Roger dragged himself out from under Aaron’s arm and shuffled back to his bunk.

“G’night, guys. Was fun,” Skylar said and went after him.

“Good night, Skylar,” Aaron said and got up as well, but Bryan stopped him. 

“You studied classic in RADA?”

“No. I studied classic privately before that, but I participated in a few operas whilst being in RADA.”

“Opera? No shit?”

“Opera. I was cast in Madame Butterfly, actually,” Aaron said and winked.

“Could we do... opera?”

“You want to?” Aaron asked surprised. He hadn’t sung opera in ages and he wouldn’t mind taking it up again.

“Just... something popular to put into our vast repertoire.”

Aaron chuckled. “Yeah. That could actually be awesome. But I’m no Placido Domingo, Bryan.”

“We’ll see. You know you have potential, Tveit. But all right. We’ll rehearse something.”

Aaron embraced him out of nowhere, and Bryan didn't hesitate to reciprocate. “Thank you,” Aaron said feeling emotions pushing forward out of nowhere.

“For what, Aaron?”

“You know. For being there for us. All of us. For me when I was so fucking down.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And Bryan, I’m sorry for us behaving like snobbish kids. We’ll try and do better.”

“Hey... there is no way you two can behave better,” Bryan tried to joke.

Aaron slowly let go and smiled. “You’re too good for us. I love you, you know. Like family.”

Bryan laughed. “Yeah, I’m kind of fond of you too, Aaron. That Roger character, though...” He indicated towards the bunk. “...I’m not sure about that guy. He tends to try and look like you. I’d watch out for him.”

“Oh, we have an imposter amongst our midst?” Aaron joked. “Yeah – I heard that rumour, too.” Aaron cocked a hip. 

“I think I’m gonna stick around for a while. Danny is doing pretty well with his work, and I _love_ doing this with you guys,” Bryan said.

“Hey, I’m not sending you home, Bryan. I might even hide your passport,” Aaron said lifting his arms disarmingly.

Bryan nodded. “All right. I’m also gonna hit the sack before this gets too sappy. Good night.”

Aaron watched him go get ready for bed and turned off all the lights. Then he sat down on the sofa again. Pulling up his knees, Aaron watched the night through the opposite window and sighed. 

This was happiness at its fullest and it felt like it had only just begun.

 

End of Tale 13. August 2018.

~•§•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who took the time to read this story, thank you.


End file.
